The Road to Unicorn
by RainManWithBoobs
Summary: No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted, for everyone you will ever meet is fighting some kind of battle that you can't see. Brittana. Asperger's!Brittany.
1. Blue Rose

**Title: **The Road to Unicorn

**Official fic trailer: **Go to youtube**, **then add this to end of address bar: **/watch?v=LQKC8W8yRlU**

**Pairing: **Brittany/Santana

**Rating: **M for later chapters.

**Spoilers: **Starts pre-Glee and follows closely through S1. Has some of S2 and ignores S3 altogether, considering S2 to be senior year.

**A/N: Okay, first, thanks for clicking on my story! **

**I guess I have kind of a different motivation for writing this than most people. **

**A lot of people write to escape, but I'm writing this (anonymously) to come to terms with my real life relationship with "Santana."**

**When the creator of Glee, Ryan Murphy was asked if he based the show on his own experiences, he said that it wasn't exactly the same, but it had the 'same feel'.  
****I think that's sort of like having a different palette of colors but painting the same picture in the end.**

**This is going to be a blurry picture of me and "Santana". I'll change situations to fit with the glee world, matching up our timeline with the Glee-verse Brittana as best I can, while keeping the emotions or 'the feel' intact from my own life. **

**When I watched the show, I realized how similar the characters already were to her and me, but also how much background was left unexplained. **

**In my world, it was being deprived of things she really should have always had, and being forced into other things she shouldn't have had to do that made "Santana" so defensive.  
****For me, it was Asperger's Syndrome that was the main factor in what made me "Brittany."**

**I'm pretty sure that the 'Brittany-has-Asperger's' thing has probably been done, but it probably hasn't been done by someone who actually has it in real life. **

**This is going to be really personal and you might wonder why I'd want to share this. **

**I guess the main reason is, "Santana" and I happened mostly behind closed doors. We never told anyone how beautiful our relationship truly was and others like "Quinn" and "Artie" only saw glimpses of it. "Puck" and "Kurt" knew the most. But really, I felt like I needed to share it somehow as a tribute to her. **

**Yeah, it is my life so I already know this story, but when I come to the ending I'm gonna end things any way I want which might not be how it really happened for me, I haven't decided yet.  
**

**This whole story writing thing is kind of a stretch for me so leave me a review if you think I'm doing okay and want me to continue. :) Also, if you want to leave advice about stuff the characters do that would be really cool. I'm hoping to learn something from doing this and I could always use some good advice :) **

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_Asperger's Syndrome - __a rare and relatively mild autistic disorder characterized by awkwardness in social interaction, pedantry in speech and proccupation with very narrow interests._

* * *

_Unicorn - a state of being, characterized by independence, confidence, and total acceptance of your own individuality. _

* * *

**Chapter 1 – Blue Rose**

She called me her blue rose ever since we learned about them in science class one day when we were just freshmen in high school. Don't get me wrong, I spent most of those classes passing her notes or letting her play with my hair, but this one time I really listened up. Blue was always Santana's favorite color and the second the teacher let us out of class I turned to her and told her that I was going to find her one, even though the teacher said that they're not a natural flower – they are bred by special genetic engineering or whatever and its all about flower genes and turning different pigments off and on.

She gave me the sweetest of smile and told me that she didn't need a blue rose because she already had me. Then she explained why, even though she wasn't good with all that sappy feeling stuff. She pointed out that the same thing happened in my brain to make me different too. Doctors don't know exactly how it happened and it's is certainly not explained by pigments, but it's the honest truth that I'm not like other people. Just like a blue rose, different from all the other roses in the world that come in standard colors like orange, pink, yellow, white or red like Santana says she would probably be if she were a rose herself.

She left out some details because at that point in my life, Asperger's Syndrome was practically a dirty word to me. I didn't want to think about the fact that I was different to other people, let alone the reason why. Scratch that, the real reason was that I didn't want to think about being different to her.

In my world there was only her and I, nobody else really existed. I've never had much of a sense of myself to know who I am, the only thing that's real to me that I understood perfectly was her. I looked up to her, so I guess I tried to be like her in a way. I figured out way too late that she never wanted me to be a red rose like her, she only wanted me to be blue.

I painted some roses blue and made them glittery and totally gave them to her. For moments she seemed so touched, but then her face hardened and her walls came up and she told me that girls don't give other girls roses, blue or otherwise. I didn't know why. I must have looked like I was about to cry because she accepted them anyway, her expression flickering between pleasure and a deep sorrow. She turned away and kept muttering something about how Puck only gave her roses when he had completely screwed up or was trying to score points and get into her pants. My intentions were more innocent, I just wanted her to have something pretty that would make her happy. It wasn't just the fact that we're both girls that scared her. As sad as it is, it was easier for her to accept flowers as a game, rather than as a gesture of love.

The phrase blue rose is kind of like a contradiction, especially since the word 'rose' itself suggests kind of a pinky color Rachel Berry has obnoxiously informed me that it is actually called an 'oxymoron' but I thought that was what you called cleaning products that flunk out of stain remover school so I'm sticking with contradiction.

I understand that my life is a series of these. Santana says my world is kind of like _organized chaos_, with the important things organized but the rest chaotic. Like how I know every inch of Santana's body but I can't remember where I stashed my textbooks. They called me an _idiot savant_ because I'm really good at certain subjects. I'm interested in like cat diseases but I find the alphabet too hard. Santana calls a lot of the things I say _random logic_ because they all make sense, but my facts are kind of all twisted and brought together in funny ways. She said that I'm _old_ but _young_ in such a way that I live in a child's world of rainbow's and unicorns, but in some ways she thinks I'm older and wiser than her. She also said that I surprise her every day but these _surprises_ are _expected_.

Our relationship has been _bittersweet_, laced with the purest forms of pleasure and the deepest forms of pain. And yeah, I feel like the most _genuine imitation_ of a human being ever. I'm so honest, like honesty just tumbles out of my mouth before I can even try to stop, yet I play a part every day. I try so hard to be normal and fit in, because I know most people live in a different kind of world to me and I have to fit in with them and try to understand them and get them to understand me.

You could say that Santana and I were both in hiding. I was trying to hide Asperger's and she was trying to hide her sexuality. Except it didn't happen like that, because what actually ended up being hidden away was the real Brittany and Santana. When you hide what you think is a small, unimportant part of you, it's often a lot bigger than you think because hiding one part of yourself automatically hides a lot of other parts too. Santana and I were in hiding together, but most of the time not from each other, which is what made those years we spent together so special.

Oh right. I forgot to introduce myself, I always forget stuff like that.

I'm Brittany S. Pierce. Here's what a photo of me will tell you. I look really young for my age. I'm tall with long dancer's legs. My hair is straight and blonde. My legs are strong and muscly from dancing. Santana says I'm really pretty but I'm not sure. Um, here's what a photo doesn't tell you. I can never sit still. I bounce a lot and fidget in my seat and I think too much.

I'm going to tell you our story now. I'm not going to say it's a coming of age story about us growing up and finding ourselves because I know Santana would just roll her eyes say how wanky that sounds. But I will say three things. One is that I've loved her since I was seven years old, and sometimes I still don't even know where she begins and I end. Two is that as hard as things have been, I would never change her. I would not even change myself now, even if I knew a cure for autism, but I haven't always been able to say that. Three is simply that things can and do change all on their own, sometimes when you least expect it.


	2. The Flutter Of a Butterfly's Wing

**Chapter 2 – The Flutter of a Butterfly's Wing**

**Brittany S. Pierce, Present**

You'll meet my mom in this chapter. Her name is Susan, like my middle name. Don't think too badly of her. Even though she does come off as kind of mean, she really isn't. She does love me; it is just that it is complicated. When she was pregnant with me I suppose she had this picture in her head as to what I be like and when I was born I was nothing like it at all.

She was expecting me to be a bit more like my sister Katie, only she was born years after me. Katie is gentle and easygoing, not a walking hurricane who always says the wrong thing like me. I love Katie and I'm glad that mom got the child she wanted eventually but it is hard sometimes being somebody's disappointment.

My mom herself is like a walking quote or proverb, depending on her mood. I'm not joking. She speaks almost entirely in other people's words.

It seems like she's got a lot of problems, always contemplating how many ways there are to skin a cat and how hard it is finding needles in haystacks.

I have solutions to all her problems: don't skin cats and don't put needles near haystacks. If only she'd listen to me, then maybe she'd have less to think about and she'd and be less grumpy with me all the time.

She has a touch of Asperger's herself, as the parents of people like me often do. One thing we always agreed on were rules. Rules simplify things. She kept a list of rules above my bed when I was younger so I would know what is appropriate to do in public and what isn't. The list got longer and longer and longer the older I got until finally she gave up altogether. There aren't enough rules in the world to tell you how to manage your life because each situation makes things different. Rules are a good thought, but mostly I learned that if you stick to them over and over you end up doing the wrong thing anyway or at least miss out on stuff. Mom likes labels too, both the physical kind and the judgment kind. She'd fix labels to household objects with their name on them if she could and she'd tattoo 'autistic' to my forehead because after a while, that's the only way she could see me. Santana and I agreed on that one, labels suck.

You're also going to meet Santana. I don't remember much about my first meeting with her, which is strange because everything else about her that I know, and all our other memories together are preserved in great detail, frame by frame, existing specifically in this huge section of my brain that is reserved just for her.

Of the day we met however, I can only remember bits and pieces, right up until she put her arms around me, then it is all a blur.

We became friends by accident, I don't know how I got her to like me since I had no skills in making friends whatsoever.

I guess I really was just lucky.

You know, for all I know about her, I don't claim to really understand her.

She's been my best friend for so many years, yet I can't put the pieces together of what she does to figure out what they mean. Not even what they mean to me, let alone what they mean to her.

That's kind of a theme with me.

To know another person, first you have to know yourself. You have to understand who you are to be able to set yourself apart from another person.

I guess that was the problem all along. I had no sense of self so I tried to become her, or anyone else around me and Brittany got lost in the process

You be the judge I guess. Here's where it all began. I'm starting from the beginning because as Mom would say "you have to crawl before you can walk."

* * *

**Brittany S. Pierce, 7 years old. **

The waiting room of Dr Lopez's practice was stuffy and filled with kids with hacking coughs and wet noses being nursed by their long suffering parents who looked as if they would rather have been anywhere else.

Brittany Pierce provided a stark contrast to this as she danced around the room, already bored with the broken toys in the corner her mother had told her to play with. She spun faster and began to attract the attention of an elderly couple who didn't seem to appreciate her pushing off of their wheelchairs to get better momentum. Deep into her own world, Brittany hadn't yet noticed that the wheelchairs both contained people.

"Brittany, sit down now!" Susan barked, not wanting her daughter to attract any more attention.

Brittany looked at her without meeting her eyes and regarded her for a while thoughtfully. "Is it a rule?" she asked.

"Yes," said Susan sternly. "It is definitely a rule."

Brittany sat down instantly. She knew all about rules. She was running out of wall space in her room because of all these important rule lists. She looked around for a place to sit by herself, but all the seats were taken except one next to a small dark-haired girl who looked about her age, who was sitting there quietly nursing a bloody nose and several cuts and scrapes, tending to them herself without a parent in sight.

She sat in the chair beside the dark haired girl, ignoring her and playing with the rubber band on her hand that she was supposed to snap on her wrist every time she broke a rule. It really hurt.

The dark haired girl was now clearly wanting some attention paid to her. She side-eyed Brittany for a couple of minutes until she could finally stand it no longer. "Aren't you going to ask me why I'm all bloody?" she asked, incredulous that Brittany could just sit there and not stare like all the other kids in the waiting room had.

"No I wasn't going to ask you that." Brittany said back as she shrugged. Brittany hadn't yet looked at the other girl's face as she tended to avoid eye contact and look at peoples' feet. You could learn a lot about people by what they wore on their feet and it told Brittany a lot more than the little she could tell by looking at faces. For instance, this girl had on a bold pair of purple and black lace-ups with lightning bolts on them so she was probably a fast runner. Still, she she obeyed the girl and chanced a look and then gasped at the girl's injuries.

Santana smirked triumphantly. "I was in a fight with seven boys on the playground. I won. And I came here all by myself because Papi owns this whole practice and as soon as he sees me he is going to freak out and shut the whole place down just so he can take care of me and spend time with me," she said confidently.

Brittany looked confused. "He practices what? I practice the piano. I don't want to though. I would rather dance. The Macarena is boring now so I've been practicing my moon walk," she said conversationally.

Santana stared incredulously at her. "Focus, Blondie. Aren't you afraid of me? I beat up all those boys, I could beat you up too," she threatened, trying to get the upper hand with this strange girl.

"My name is Brittany, not Blondie. But don't worry I get my name wrong sometimes too. And I'm not afraid you'll beat me up because you've got to hold your nose or you'll get more blood all over your pretty dress," Brittany said nodding at the dried blood stains that were already there.

"Whatever. So anyway Brittany, you don't look sick. What's wrong with you," Santana asked, leveling her with a glare.

"I'm not a sick that you can see," Brittany told her sadly.

"What you're hiding green toes in your shoes or something?" Santana sneered.

"No. My mom says that she thinks that I was born wrong and something in my brain isn't right... and it makes me embarrass her all the time," Brittany said ashamed.

"So?" Santana's voice was confident, with an air of disinterest. "My abuela says I was born wrong too. She said that most kids are born in cabbage patches, and that bunnies like cabbages a lot so they are the ones stopping some babies from getting born, and that's why my tío and tía can't have kids. Anyway, she said that I wasn't supposed to be born, so I must have found a rotten cabbage to get borned in, because a bunny had already ate mine. So that's how I was born so rotten," Santana said mechanically as if she were quoting someone.

"I don't think you're rotten... um…" Brittany really wanted to follow the right rules for once and ask for her name. She liked the story about the rabbits and thought this girl was really interesting and not nearly as mean as other kids who hit her on the playground.  
She peered at the girl's forehead. Label free. Obviously her mom hadn't gotten to the dark haired girl with one of her famous label stickers yet.  
Last night her mom had labeled the TV, and some of the bowls in the cupboard. She said she was tired of Brittany calling things the wrong names. Brittany thought it wasn't her fault that everything looked the same.

"Garbage fa….no I mean it's… Santana." Santana said testing out the name carefully as if she herself didn't use it very often.

"Santana," Brittany tried the name herself and fixed her eyes on Santana's face. Santana looked at her as if she was waiting for her to say something, but Brittany wasn't sure what she wanted to say next.

"Brittany?" Dr Lopez called.

Susan jumped up and led her daughter into Dr Lopez's office before Santana could jump up herself and get her fathers attention.

Santana sighed. It had been like this all day, the minute she thought she was going to catch him, someone always beat her. She leaned against the wall trying to hear what her father was saying to Brittany about her mysterious sickness. It sounded like Brittany's mother was almost hysterical describing her symptoms. In fact she sounded so high pitched and hysterical that Santana could only make out a few words of what she was saying.

"She won't sleep without…"

"… I can't get her to….."

"… and when she's with other kids she…"

"… when she's hurt she won't…"

Santana heard her papi trying to calm Brittany's mom down, speaking in the same low voice he used when trying to calm down Santana's mami when he came to pick up Santana for the weekend. Her mami didn't seem to like her papi very much anymore. She always screamed at him for not being on time, or for being something called a 'cheating bastard.' Santana wasn't sure if her papi didn't come get her very much because he didn't like the yelling, or because she was a 'cheating bastard' too.  
She thought she wouldn't be surprised if she was, because her mami was always telling her that she was just like papi. But then she called her other things too, like a 'useless good for nothing little brat.' Santana wasn't sure what she was anymore.

The door was suddenly flung open and Santana jumped back. This was her chance.

"I'm sorry I couldn't help you, but here's the name of someone who can. He can diagnose your daughter if need be," Dr Lopez said.

"PAPI!" Santana called out unable to be patient any longer. In spite of how brave she was pretending to be, she really was sore, she had more bruises than she cared to count and thinking about the cut on her head made her feel dizzy.

"Santana. Mija, what are you doing here? And what happened to you?" he checked her over. "Is anything broken?" he asked.

She cast her eyes down at her fathers annoyed tone. "No Papi," she mumbled.

He handed her a plastic bag full of ice for her nose.

"I think this looks a lot worse than it is. Well, run along then Santana, you know you aren't supposed to visit me at work unless it is an emergency. I'm very busy. I've got a lot of kids to see today," he said condescendingly as he brushed past her, calling out the name of a kid who looked as if he was about to be sick any second. Then he was gone.

Brittany had paused while her mother talked to the receptionist, watching the scene and waiting for a break in conversation as she had remembered that it was polite to say goodbye to people you had been speaking to, and she didn't want to break a rule. She was just about to say goodbye and shake Santana's hand, when she stopped and came a little closer than she normally would to a stranger. She had seen something that she usually didn't notice very much. "You have water coming out of your eyes," she pointed out.

Santana wiped at them furiously. "No I don't. I never cry do you understand me?" she threatened.

Brittany looked at her confused; she was pretty sure when water came out of a person's eyes that meant that they were crying, so why would Santana be any different? Maybe Santana was like a special self cleaning device that could spray water from her eyes on her face to clean it when she got dirty. If that was true, then she wasn't a very functional unit, she was just smearing blood all over her face and not really cleaning herself up. Brittany shook her head. She was letting her imagination run away with her again. Just 'cause it could be imagined, didn't always make it true. Brittany found that confusing.

Santana was trying really hard to wipe her tears away but her tears were coming out faster and faster and all her movements were becoming frantic. Brittany immediately wanted to help her. She took a few steps forward hoping that Santana would follow her. When she didn't, she realized she'd have to touch her. Rather than take her hand like Brittany's mother always tried to do when she wanted her to come somewhere (because she hated that), she compromised, and hooked her pinky around Santana's own and led her to the drinking fountains by the TV which seemed to be playing endless episodes of SpongeBob.

She pressed down on the button so Santana could take handfuls of water and splash them on her face, cleaning herself up and washing her tears away. She had calmed down the moment Brittany had curled her pinky around hers, although Brittany wasn't sure why.

After Santana was done, Brittany fished around in her pocket for a Cinderella Band-Aid she'd been hoarding and handed it to her. She figured Santana needed it more than she did and between the two of them they got it out of the wrapper and onto the worst cut on Santana's forehead.

"Thank you," Santana mumbled. "I don't usually cry that much you know," she said defensively.

_So she really was crying_? Brittany wondered and then she thought to comment. "I cry sometimes. I cried when a huge boy pushed me off the playground yesterday in school, and I cried when I thought the new kitten I got last week was dead but it turns out they don't move much when they're sleeping, and I cried a lot when Mufasa died and Simba was all alone," she said. The list went on but it was a rule that she wasn't supposed to talk so much.

Santana seemed to be studying her, checking for signs of deception or ridicule, but finding nothing but sincerity, a tiny burst of trust came across her face. "You know he pays attention to me all the time, just not when he's at work. I'm not alone like Simba," she explained.

Brittany nodded along like she knew what she was talking about, even though she didn't. Susan suddenly called for her evidently having lost her for the past ten minutes. "Brittany, there you are. Come on now. We have to go," she shouted, her voice rising to that same shrill pitch it had taken on before while she had been talking to the doctor.

Brittany waited hesitantly, not wanting to lose the first person who hadn't pushed her over when she talked to them. "Will I ever see you again?" she asked.

Santana laughed. "Of course, you will, we're in the same class at school silly, you haven't seen me before?" she said incredulously. She was kind of infamous in their class for having beat eleven different boys up this year alone. Some, she had even punched out multiple times.

Brittany got visibly upset at Santana laughing at her, because usually when people started laughing at her that usually meant they were going to hurt her.  
She tried to answer Santana, not wanting to make her angrier. "I…I have a really bad memory for faces... and I've only been there a week... You mean... you've noticed me?" she stuttered out.

Santana laughed again, and Brittany flinched more. Santana softened her tone almost instinctively and stopped laughing although she wasn't sure why. "Yeah, me and our whole class. You're kind of hard to miss wearing those ski hats that make you look like a bunny rabbit all the time, and the reason I beat up those boys today was because I saw them giving you a hard time yesterday. Actually, I've seen them be mean to you for pretty much the whole time you've been here, so I hit them extra hard for it. I try to keep the boys from thinking they rule the place which means I protect all the girls. I saw you crying, and you may not have noticed me, but I noticed you," Santana said, slightly embarrassed to have admitted all that.

Brittany was clearly getting confused at all this new information, and she was starting to breathe faster. She looked around wildly for her mom, but found she had impatiently left the Doctor's office and was probably waiting for her by the car.

"Hey, Brittany are you okay?" Santana asked, and she stepped closer to her and took hold of her arm, curling her palms around her skin at the elbow and using her other hand to almost hug the girl, aiming for the back of Brittany's shirt and missing it slightly.

Brittany's eyes widened, her mind spun around in circles, and then everything went black.


	3. Diagnonsense

**A/N I always appreciate any alerts and reviews, but I especially appreciate the very first person who reviewed this because they were so kind and encouraging and really compelled me to write more. It is actually very hard for me to post this as I am used to bullying and was afraid I'd get some mean comments and you'll see soon how very hard it is for me to admit to the autism thing, in real life I just don't go there unless I am forced to, even now. So, I just wanted to say a big thanks to fantom33 for being so sweet to me, this chapter is for you. :) **

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**Chapter 3 - Diagnonsense**

**Brittany S. Pierce, Present**

I guess you can see the contrast between young-me and old-me now. When I was a child I was so locked inside myself, unable to look at things from another perspective, unable to figure out the right words to communicate how I felt and connect with other people.  
But, I'm doing all that just fine now right? So that's one of the main points to this story. How did I really get there and what did Santana have to do with it?

Bear with me.

Things changed after that day in the Doctor's office. My brain began learning things that it couldn't before, and I guess that was because for all my life up until then, I didn't have someone like her that knew how to teach me ways to figure out the world.  
Nobody could teach me things like she could.  
She understood me, right from the beginning. I don't know how, but she used to tell me it was because we were made for each other.

By the way, I guess you might have noticed that I was the one who started the whole pinky holding thing?  
I always did it when I was a kid to reassure her. I wasn't good with dealing with touch, and pinky holding was about my limit back then.  
But, when we grew up, it actually became Santana's way of reassuring _me.  
_It was all we had when we were out in public, and when she couldn't let anyone see us being so 'close.'

She'd let me know she wasn't mad at me anymore, or that she was there for me by extending her pinky out to me. She found it really hard to tell me those things in words. I was always so relieved to see her little finger coming towards mine after a fight. I would try to transmit all the love and warmth in my body through that one part of me, so she'd know it was okay and that we were back to being Siamese twins again, always connected.

* * *

**Brittany S. Pierce, 7-8 years old. **

A few weeks later, Brittany was sitting in her usual spot at lunch as far away from her classmates as she could get. This didn't stop Santana from finding her and giving her a warm gap-toothed smile. Her cut on her head was completely healed now thanks to more Band-Aids from Brittany. The most recent one had featured the Cookie Monster. A few rather vicious pinches had stopped Noah Puckerman, one of the most notorious playground bullies, from saying even a word about it.

"Hey Brittany," Santana said edging closer to her nervously, hoping that the other girl would be glad to see her. They had become fast friends in the past few weeks, and in spite of herself, Santana had become really fond of her. She couldn't quite tell if Brittany felt the same way back. But then again, it was hard to tell what Brittany thought about anything.

Brittany _had_ checked her injuries every day though. Even her mami hadn't done that.

Brittany looked up and although she didn't smile, she immediately began to talk in garbled speech, too fast for Santana to decipher.

"Hey, hold up. Go slow now," Santana said putting her hands up, trying to understand.

Brittany spoke clearly this time. "I'm going to meet the Unillama," she announced.

"The what now?" Santana's forehead wrinkled up.

"The Rainbow Unillama," Brittany said starting to speak faster again. "It's the right day for him to be here because I saw eight blue cars, eight red cars and eight green cars on the way to school. That's the sign he gives so you know he's coming. He's part unicorn so he can grant wishes. Oh, and if I'm nice he might give me some of his rainbow fleece so I can make a lucky jumper to wear and have good luck everyday, but if he spits on you that means you'll never grow up. He spat on me first time I saw him because we didn't know each other that well yet, and mum says she wishes I'd act my age all the time, so it must have worked and I must not be growing up, so don't go near him if he looks like he's gonna start spitting," Brittany said eventually pausing for breath.

Santana smiled wider showing off her new missing tooth. "Do you think he can do something about my teeth?" she asked.

"Huh?" Brittany looked up and saw for herself.

"I mean, it was coming loose before Noah's fist got me there anyways, but it came all the way out this morning, and but now it's super lame because he thinks he has the power to punch out teeth," she said as she rolled her eyes.

Santana wanted to be part of Brittany's game whether the Unillama came out of the bushes or not. It sure beat sitting with Quinn discussing who the all least gross guys in their class were, and/or helping her pick on that Rachel Berry kid. There were only so many recesses Santana wanted to waste her time sneaking under the bleachers to tie Rachel's shoelaces together, just to see her fall over. There were so many other people that needed picking on, and she was a boring target.

Brittany was nodding. "He can definitely do something about your teeth," she said confidently.

They waited silently for the Unillama.

After fifteen minutes Santana was getting confused. _When was the game gonna start? she thought._

Brittany's eyes were gleaming and she was on the edge of her seat, and was staring off into the distance.

Santana side-eyed her. "Britts, I… well… nothing's happening," she pointed out, wondering what Brittany was so excited about.

Brittany seemed confused for a moment, then she exhaled and let out a long breath. "Oh… I guess I've never waited for him with another person before… I…"  
She trailed off, not sure what to say.

"Tell me what's happening," Santana said, encouraging her, trying to get Brittany to let her into her world.

"Well, he's in there." Brittany said pointing to behind some bushes. Her face lit up as she found the words.  
"He's in there. But he's not coming any closer and we mustn't force him or try to make him give up some of his fleece without him wanting to, because if he doesn't want to give it to us, it will lose its rainbow color and it will turn grey," she told Santana, her expression serious.

Santana giggled, charmed by her new friend.

Brittany flinched like she had in the doctor's waiting room. "Why do you keep laughing at me?" she asked sadly.

"No no Britt, it's a good thing. It means I think you're funny… and that I like you," Santana said swallowing her discomfort at revealing her feelings. Somehow it was easier to be like this with Brittany, and to tell her what she was really thinking. Santana was pretty sure that maybe Brittany wouldn't judge her like most people would, even if she found out that Santana wasn't as tough as she pretended to be.

"Oh!" This time Brittany smiled widely just for a second, then it faltered like she wasn't sure if her reaction was right and she twisted her face back to giving Santana her usual blank look.

All Santana could think about right now was that she wanted to see Brittany smile like that again, at whatever cost.

"What's going on now, Britts?" she asked just as the bell rang.

Brittany looked back at the bushes. "He's gone," she said sadly.

"Maybe next time we'll get to meet him?" Santana offered, trying to cheer her up.

"Yeah." Brittany said dejectedly, all traces of happy gone now that she knew she wasn't going to get a rainbow jumper. She paused before they went back into the classroom. "Santana? … Are we… friends?" she asked, phrasing the question slowly, her voice shaking with nerves, as if it was the hardest and most complicated question on the planet.

Santana swallowed. "Yeah Britts, I think we're friends," she said looking at her hopefully.

"How do you know?" Brittany asked, her tongue sticking straight out of her mouth as she contemplated this.

"We just… are." Santana scrambled to come up with a better answer than that, and felt her heart twist painfully when Brittany looked unconvinced in a way that Santana couldn't comprehend herself, as if the word friend was the hardest concept to understand in the whole world.

* * *

Within a few months, Santana had come to know Brittany's schedule, and she'd also come to know how upset she got if it wasn't followed.

Santana began bringing in food for Brittany so her friend would have something to eat at lunch, because her mom always seemed to forget that she only liked certain foods. Brittany mostly just liked jello and bananas.  
There were many near disasters. Once, Brittany's mom had even put a green pickle in Brittany's lunchbox, and Brittany had recoiled in horror saying that pickles were just evil bananas that grew grown green skin and warts because they like scaring pretty girls and their little dogs too.  
Before the panic had officially had time to set in, Santana had quickly swiped the 'evil banana' from Brittany's box and replaced with a 'good banana' that she had brought for her, and then Brittany's world was back to sunshine and rainbows.

When they were in class, Brittany always liked things to stay the same way. When they did art after lunch instead of before lunch, Santana would feel Brittany tense up beside her. She didn't know how to comfort her friend because Brittany didn't respond so well to touch so she would settle for talking to her calmly, and telling her it was going to be okay and giving her something to squeeze in her hand because that always seemed to keep her grounded.

That didn't always work though. Today was one of 'those days.'

Noah and his friends were restless and looking for a fight. It had started in the morning when Brittany had blurted out that their substitute teacher kind of looked like a pineapple.

Noah had pointed at Brittany and rolled his eyes at her, but Santana had put her hand to her mouth giggling, because if you looked a little harder, she was right. Mrs Pibble was very round with almost prickly blotchy skin and a wild mess of choppy short hair sticking out in all directions from the top of her head.

Brittany seemed to have trouble keeping these kinds of comments to herself and Santana had a hard time explaining why she shouldn't say them. When Brittany asked why she was always getting in trouble, Santana tried to explain to her that sometimes people didn't like to hear the truth.  
Brittany couldn't understand why the truth could ever be wrong, and quite frankly, sometimes Santana didn't know either. She was sick of always having to use so much tact to spare people's feelings and she preferred to 'tell it how it is.'  
The only times she ever wanted to hold back was in front of Brittany. Santana always felt like she had to be a better version of herself around her.

Noah had been sending mean comments Brittany's way ever since break, and Santana was now debating his punishment. There was a pot of glue nearby that could be poured all over his head and a couple of thumbtacks that Mrs Pibble hadn't known to keep away from her.  
The possibilities were endless, and Santana wasn't going to waste the opportunity.

Surprisingly, it was Quinn who made the next move. Quinn hadn't been liking how much attention Santana was paying to the new girl. Santana had branched off and made her own friend and that just wasn't allowed.  
Quinn knew that she should be the one who decided who was cool and who wasn't, and those who didn't make the cut were isolated and made to sit by themselves.  
Like Rachel Berry. Quinn had hated her from the first day of the first grade when the classroom music teacher had praised Rachel's rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star with more enthusiasm than he had praised Quinn's, and from that moment on she was blacklisted.

To Quinn, Brittany was no better. She was too loud and spoke out of turn and Quinn could only understand about every ninth word she said, not that she was really bothering about it.  
Also, Quinn had decided that anyone who liked cartoons like Brittany did, just had to be a loser. The only show that was acceptable for a young lady to watch who was going to be eight years old soon, was the show "Popular."  
Quinn was hooked on it, even if she didn't understand what was going on most of the time.  
She completely idolized the character 'Brooke,' who was super popular and a cheerleader, just like Quinn's mom was in high school.  
Quinn was determined to grow up just like her mom, and for that, she needed to be popular and to have followers.

_Maybe if I can embarrass Brittany enough, then Santana will stop hanging out with her and will go back to following me around,_ thought Quinn. _That's where she belongs. _

Brittany's class were all working in groups of five, designing a poster about saving the ozone. Brittany was cutting out hearts and scrawling words that were badly spelled wrong on her section.

Quinn tried some of the usual tactics that usually made girls would wanted to be her cry.  
She liked to make sure people knew where they stood.  
To everyone's surprise she began to praise Kurt, Mercedes and even Rachel for their excellent spelling. She even announced that obviously if anyone in the group had any brains they would know that the best shape to cut out for an ozone project would be a tree. Kurt hurriedly began cutting trees out, and at Quinn's approving glance the others were quick to copy him, leaving just Brittany cutting out lopsided hearts.

Quinn kept going, complimenting Brittany's hearts in a passive aggressive way, but the disguised teasing went right over Brittany's head in spite of Quinn's high pitched patronizing voice. It was like she took the words at face value and thought that Quinn was being nice and paying her compliments. She didn't even seem to need Quinn's approval to continue what she was doing and this made Quinn frustrated. She wanted to sort this out while she had Brittany alone without Santana, who had in Quinn's opinion been much more fortunate with who she had been put in a group with, and it frustrated Quinn that their poster was already much less loser-y than this one.

"Brittany." Quinn decided it was time to speak directly to her, and get right to the point."Look I'm going to do you a favor, okay?" Quinn said as she made her voice as sickly sweet as she could manage, it was time to pull out all the stops.

"I think that one day you could maybe be cool, especially if you started dressing your age and talked so people could understand you. Maybe it would help if you stopped walking around with your head in the clouds so much, and if you stopped humming to yourself all the time. Now don't get me wrong, we _like_ you Brittany, we think you are… an interesting person," Quinn paused for dramatic effect. "But, we wish you were more like us. You just can't call out in class all the time, because you should know that people want to listen to me, Quinn Fabray, first. They don't want to hear you, because I'm in charge here. Now it's your lucky day Brittany, because I am going to help you to become more normal, starting today," she told her, looming over Brittany as she made her point.

Kurt, Mercedes and Rachel were practically cowering in fear, hoping that Quinn wouldn't attack them next, but Brittany turned her blue eyes on Quinn's sparkly pink shoes as she was talking to her and seemed to be listening intently with her face blank for most parts of Quinn's speech, while in others she had her forehead scrunched up as if in thought.

Quinn could tell Brittany was having trouble figuring out what she meant, and when Brittany's face finally showed some understanding, Quinn expected it would only be a few seconds more before she broke down in tears. She looked over at Santana who looked distracted trying to find something in her desk. _Perfect timing_, Quinn thought.

Suddenly, Brittany smiled, and Quinn gasped in shock.  
"Thanks Quinn for saying such nice things about me, and for saying you're always gonna help me from now on and be my friend. You want to help me cut out these hearts then? I've still got a whole lot to do and I want to make sure Mrs Pibble knows how much I love the ozone," she said, nudging another pair of scissors towards Quinn.

Quinn's jaw dropped and she realized suddenly what the problem was. Brittany didn't even know she was different. You can't hurt someone with the truth if they aren't aware it's the truth in the first place and honestly Brittany didn't seem aware of much at all, let alone herself. Brittany was just floating through life on her own sort of cloud, with no sense of how she affected others, with no way for anybody to get through to her.

_Brittany is so stupid and so clueless,_ Quinn thought, raging at her in her head. The sight of Brittany's smiling face was completely pissing her off, and it freaked her out that she couldn't seem to figure out how to put her in her place.  
The tension rising, Quinn snapped, all pretenses and tricks forgotten.  
"No! I do not want to help you cut out those stupid hearts. I will never be your friend and I'll make damn sure Santana stops hanging out with you for her own good because you're way too weird for her, there seriously has to be something wrong with you and for gods sake, take this stupid hat off," she hissed at her, leaning in close.  
She ripped the hat from Brittany's head and jumped back when Brittany immediately curled into herself and started crying, with a high pitched wail, not unlike the sound her grandmother's Pomeranian puppy made when he was only a few weeks old and lonely at night.  
Quinn was stunned.

Mrs Pibbles arrived at the scene seconds before Santana could extract her hand from inside her desk and run over. Seeing Brittany's ski hat in Quinn's hand, Mrs Pibbles scolded Quinn immediately and went to put it back on Brittany's head to solve the problem. Santana's small hand on her arm stopped her in her tracks.

"It's not the hat," Santana said quietly, "she doesn't like people touching her, and Quinn probably said something to upset her as well. It's also better if not a lot of people talk to her right now."

"Okay," Mrs Pibbles said recognizing that this little girl seemed to know what was going on more than she did. It was usually the problem that children wanted more attention than the teacher wanted to give them, not less.

"Would it help her calm down if the two of you sat in my office for a little while?" she asked and managed to shepherd Brittany into her office, and on her way in Santana turned back and gave Quinn her most threatening glare as if to tell her that this wasn't over.

Honestly, Quinn was a little scared. Santana could be both unpredictable and out of control sometimes. Quinn could always count on her to have her back and beat up the boys if they got in the way of her plans, but she'd never had Santana turn on her like this.  
It was all Brittany's fault.

Having death stared Quinn enough to know she'd unnerved her, Santana came to sit beside Brittany in the small room. She was still sobbing into her hands and sitting cross-legged on a chair.  
Santana gently dropped Brittany's hat in her lap and sat at a safe distance waiting for her to calm down enough to say something. She was glad that she'd been able to get to her before things had got any worse.

Santana was beginning to understand what the problem was. It was complicated, but it was like Brittany reacted more to ordinary things than an average person. It wasn't just a conscious reaction; it was a physical one too, sort of like she was a machine that was turned up on a higher setting to take in more and to give out more. Sometimes Brittany would react badly on this higher setting and it would make her anxious about little things, and she would get hot and start shaking and her chest would tighten and she would find it hard to breathe. Santana was glad that it hadn't got to that point this time.

After a while, Brittany stopped sobbing, but she wouldn't look at Santana and seemed to wish that she wasn't even there. Santana guessed she was embarrassed. "It's okay Brittany," Santana said gently, "I don't mind that you're upset."

Brittany opened her mouth like she wished she could respond, but it seemed all she could do right now was to keep silent. She had a wild look in her eyes like she felt like she had no control right now and if she moved, or if she spoke, or if Santana made any sudden moves then this… whatever this was… might leak out of her.  
She was afraid that if that happened, it would take her longer to get herself back under control again, and not start screaming and crying in front of everyone.

Santana sighed. She knew that when Brittany got like this, she stayed like this, and she just had to wait and search her eyes until she saw the calm blue that she longed to see once again.

They sat silently for the rest of the lesson until the bell rang to go home. Santana guarded Brittany while she got her things ready, sending a ferocious growl in Quinn's direction, although it hardly looked like the other girl was about to strike a second time.

When Brittany's thoughts finally became clear while they were walking home, she realized that some of the stuff Quinn had said had made sense. The other kids never freaked out like that, so why did she?  
Maybe she really _was_ different.  
If Quinn was right about that then maybe she was right about Santana. Maybe she was too weird to hang out with Santana.

She looked over at the girl she had spent most of her time ever since she had moved schools. Actually, Santana was the only other girl her age she had ever spent a lot of time with _period_. She'd never had a lot of friends.

Maybe there really was something wrong with her.

Maybe if Santana figured out what Quinn somehow knew, then she wouldn't want to hang out with Brittany anymore.  
Brittany couldn't voice her fears to Santana who was looking at her now anxiously, sensing that something wasn't right.  
In fact, Brittany found she couldn't use her voice at all.

When they got to the door of her home, Brittany wished she could tell Santana goodbye and thank you, but unable to do that she instead placed her hat in Santana's hands and turned away from her and went inside. She didn't want to be weird-Brittany around Santana any more for today.

Santana stood outside Brittany's door clutching her hat in her, hands clenching and unclenching it in her fist wishing that she was holding on to Brittany's little pinky like that day in her papi's office.

Realizing that what she wanted would only comfort herself and not Brittany, she lowered her head. Brittany needed space and Santana wanted to help her friend, so she reluctantly turned and left. She didn't notice Brittany who was looking out of her window upstairs, and sadly watching her walk away.

* * *

It took Brittany three days to feel like she could go to school again and in the meantime she'd had another appointment with Dr Constase, the psychiatrist Dr Lopez had referred her to.

It should have taken her nearly a year for her to be able to see him as he had been booked out and unable to take on more patients, but Dr Lopez had pulled some strings.  
Brittany's psychiatrist hadn't said anything conclusive yet, but he'd taken careful note of Brittany's habits. He had noted her ritual of spinning eight times and saying goodnight to every single stuffed animal she had before she could go to sleep every night, and he'd heard her mom's report that even when she'd completed that routine, she could barely sleep much and was always tired.  
He had also written down several other observations that he'd been able to notice herself, such as the way she twisted her hands around when she talked.

Putting the pieces together, he then sat Brittany down and asked her to take the "Sally Anne test" for him.  
Brittany thought it was fun because the test involved her bringing in two of her favorite dolls and pretending they were Sally and Anne. Dr Constase didn't know that 'Sally' and 'Anne' was going to be two of Brittany's favorite Ken dolls, but nevertheless they managed anyway.  
Sally-Ken took a marble and put it in her basket and then while Sally-Ken was gone, Anne-Ken took the marble and put it in her own box. Dr Constase then asked where Sally-Ken would look for her marble when she came back and Brittany pointed to Anne's box, sure that was where Sally-Ken would look, because obviously the marble was in there. Dr Constase just shook his head sadly like it meant something important.

Brittany was slowly getting ready to go to school the following morning. She had to start early because it took her this long to organize herself and remember all the things she had to bring. Suddenly, she heard some noises outside and a knock at the door. She looked out her window to see Santana standing sheepishly on her doorstep. She came downstairs and opened the door and let her in.  
"I can't talk Santana I'm organizing my school stuff. Oh wait. Hello Santana. I forgot the saying hello part-" she trailed off, knowing she was rambling.

Santana was used to this kind of greeting by now and just smiled at her. "I just missed you, that's all," she said.  
She really had. The day after Quinn had hurt Brittany, she had confronted the other girl, telling her that if she ever did that to Brittany again, then Santana was going to climb up the wall of Quinn's house, and creep into her bedroom while she was sleeping and cut off all her hair.  
She had said it with her most deadly smile, and Quinn knew she meant business.  
Santana had been lonely in the three days Brittany had been away. She couldn't hang out with Quinn right now either, so she'd had to hang out with the boys, and all they talked about was gross stuff and sports.  
"I really, really missed you," she said again.

"Oh," Brittany didn't know how to respond to that. Had she missed Santana?

"What does missing someone feel like?" She blurted out.

Santana was more than happy to answer her question, she was just glad Brittany was talking again.

"It feels sort of like you're missing something. Like, you want to wear your favorite socks to school and you put one on, but you've misplaced the other one somewhere and you're kind of just forced to walk around with only one sock on but you can't shake the feeling that you're supposed to be wearing two, and that you'd feel happier if you had both. You're my missing sock Brittany," she giggled.

Brittany looked down at her feet, she wasn't wearing any socks at all. "I have to organize my books," she repeated, "it takes me all afternoon."

Santana furrowed her eyebrows. "What makes it take so long? Do you have extra stuff to take?"

"I don't know," Brittany heaved a big sigh, "I don't remember what I have to take and that's the problem. It takes me all afternoon to remember."

"I could help?" Santana asked gently.

Brittany nodded

"We've got art tomorrow and music as well as normal lessons," said Santana as she moved about Brittany's room packing up her stuff and to Brittany's amazement, had the job done in about five minutes. Santana smiled at her shocked expression.  
"We'll do this everyday after I walk you home from school okay?" she said happy that this was a way for them to spend more time together.

Brittany cast her eyes to her feet ashamed, the last thing she wanted to do was to be a burden on Santana.

Santana was practically skipping around the room thinking of all the fun they would have after school since she had cleared Brittany's schedule now, but seeing her friends downcast eyes she suddenly remembered why she had come in the first place.  
"Oh! Brittany! I forgot. I made you this," she said pulling a rainbow tie dye shirt out of her bag and handing it to her.  
"I know you really wanted a rainbow jumper and I'm sorry I… couldn't make you a rainbow jumper… but I thought a shirt might be good too? I have a matching one too, look!" Santana said, clearly very proud of it.

Brittany held it in her hands looking it over. "The Rainbow Unillama wouldn't give you any of his fleece either?" she asked.

"Well... no… but see, I stayed up all night dyeing two of my old shirts all these colors, in a swirl like a rainbow," said Santana anxiously hoping she liked it.

"With Rainbow Unillama rainbow pee?" Brittany asked, suddenly looking extremely excited.

"Uh… sure… yeah," Santana stammered.

"That's even harder to get hold of than his fleece!" Brittany started bounding around the room dancing. "I'm gonna be the luckiest girl in the world with all that Unillama luck," she giggled. "Make sure you wear yours, so you can be lucky too!"

Santana giggled and started dancing around with her doing her trademark shuffle which Brittany immediately imitated.

When they slowed down and both flopped on the bed together, Santana realized that she'd have to make something clear. "Um… just make sure you don't tell anyone that's you're wearing um… rainbow… pee… okay?"

"Because they would just be _too_ jealous." Brittany said seriously.

"That's right." Santana said, suppressing a smile. "Especially Quinn."

"Especially Quinn," Brittany echoed. The phone rang, and Brittany heard her mother go downstairs to pick it up. She shuffled a little closer to her friend. "Thank you Santana," she said and reached out and felt around blindly until she found Santana's pinky lying against her side. Santana sighed happily, and the heavy feeling of loneliness she'd felt that week dissipated.  
For a few precious seconds she felt like they were the only two people in the world.

Susan burst into the room, her eyes brimming with tears. She didn't seem to notice Santana on her daughter's bed. Brittany jumped up and stood there, seeming to be waiting for her mother to tell her to do something. She didn't have to wait long.  
"Brittany, go sit at the table downstairs I've got to talk to you about something," she ordered.

Santana waited upstairs, unsure about what she should do. If it was bad news, then she didn't want to leave Brittany alone, even if this was supposed to be a Pierce family moment.  
She lay back down on Brittany's bed and decided to wait it out. She didn't have to wait long, ten minutes later she heard a door slam and Brittany yelling at her mom.

"I'm not Asperger's! You've got it all wrong. I'm a normal girl! Like Santana!" Brittany shouted.

Santana ran to the window and saw Brittany crouched in the garden by the shed with her knees drawn to her chest clutching the shirt Santana gave her tightly for comfort. Santana decided she would give her fifteen minutes to calm down and then she would go and check on her.

Only about thirty seconds had gone by when Susan suddenly entered the room, and began gathering Brittany's clothes from the hamper, her movements fast and frantic.  
Santana coughed and Susan spun around. "Oh… sorry," she said wiping away tears. "I wasn't aware Brittany had a guest. Are… you Santana?" she asked.

Santana nodded.

Susan went to sit beside her. "You look after her, don't you? All I ever hear is how you've saved her from one mess or another."

"I try my best," Santana said sticking her chin out proudly.

Susan gave her a sad smile. "I doubt an eight year old child will understand this, but you can't save her from herself, Santana," Susan said. "She has a developmental condition that makes her different, and neither of us can change that. She has a fairly mild case and her psychiatrist says that he sees a lot of potential in her, and that there is a lot of room for growth and for her to learn things in her own way. He said she already seems to have some coping strategies. But you have to realize... well... we both have to realize that no matter how much 'potential' she has, she'll never be normal, Santana. This will always be part of her."

Susan seemed to need to talk, so Santana sat down next to her. "Try me, Mrs Pierce I'm smarter than you think. Tell me more," she said confidently.

Words tumbling out of her mouth, Susan told her about what the doctor had said, and the problems that she as a mother would face with Brittany throughout her life. She talked about how Brittany would be slow to focus in school especially with topics she wasn't interested in, but quick to learn everything about certain selected topics that Dr Constase had called her 'special interests.' These interests would be random, but intense, and Susan said Brittany would accumulate knowledge about them to the exclusion of everything else for months, or maybe years.

_The Rainbow Unillama,_ Santana thought. _And cats_. _Of course. _Santana vowed to the mother of her friend that she would help keep Brittany focused, and help her keep her grades up if she fell behind.

"I expect she's going to start failing everything, she'll probably never get to high school," Susan moaned.

"She will," Santana promised. "We're going to stay in the same class the whole way through. I'll make sure of it."

Susan broke down some more, telling Santana that it was more than school, maybe Brittany could never hope for anything but assisted living.

"Then she'll live with me," Santana insisted.

_Children have the funniest ideas_, Susan thought. "You know what I wish, Santana. I wish most of all that she could just look into my eyes and understand how I'm feeling. Dr Constase said that he did some test with her and she failed, which means that she's probably never going to be able to see things from a different perspective to her own."

_The S__ally-Ken and Anne-Ken test_, Santana realized. Brittany had been unable to realize where the dolls would think that stupid marble was, she was only able to think about what she would look for it herself. _Who cares where the marble is anywa_y, Santana thought, defensively.

Susan began a general list of other symptoms, issues with communication, sensitivity to touch, sound, taste and light, sleep, food and anxiety issues. Santana's serious little face nodded intently, the things she already knew about her friend coming clearer with a reason behind them all.

"So are you scared off yet?" asked Susan.

Santana shook her head.

"She's got a different way of experiencing the world, she always has been this way," Susan said this quietly almost to herself.

"I know," Santana looked her in the eye. She thought about how much more fun she had with Brittany lately, running around being superheroes with her instead of being bossed around by Quinn.  
"That's the part I like about her most," she said honestly. She hopped off the bed. "You don't have to worry Mrs Pierce, I'll take care of her, she should have calmed down by now."  
She took a few steps forward and then paused at the door. "Mrs Pierce, I never thought she was broken, so she doesn't need to be fixed… she just needs friends like me who care about her."

Santana thought that maybe she could do everything for Brittany instead, and then nobody would need to worry.  
She could help her with everything, just like she did this afternoon when she had helped her organize her things, and like she always helped her tie her shoes.  
She knew she was also tough enough to keep people like Quinn away, and she'd get even tougher if she had to. If Brittany needed someone to 'assist' her to live, then Santana could be that for her.

She didn't know what it was about Brittany that made her want to do all that, because she'd never really wanted to help other people before. Something about Brittany made her feel protective and like she mattered. She felt like she was special and important when she was spending time with Brittany.

When she found Brittany by the shed, Brittany immediately denied that her mother had said anything to her. Santana could read it in her face that she was neither willing nor able to face who she was, and she clearly wanted to pretend that nothing had happened.

So Santana let Brittany stay in her own world, and they talked about cats and animals who can secretly talk. They talked about it until finally Brittany smiled, and that was all the motivation Santana needed. She knew in her heart that taking care of Brittany felt right, and was what she wanted to do, forever.


	4. The Brave And The Vulnerable

**A/N - I'm really touched by the reviews I've been getting, one in particular I'm going to address right at the very end when I finally get there because I would only give too much away of the story otherwise with what I want to say. I won't forget. ****I would take the support I've been lucky enough to get already from a small select group of wonderful people over thousands of mass reviews for sure. :) **

**This is most likely going to be the last chapter with little Brittana since I plan to age up to thirteen in the next update. ****I know writing about them as children is probably not many people's 'thing', and that's cool, it's just this is a story about a journey and if I started too late I didn't think people would get the full picture. **

**Also, I felt like I had an advantage with these older memories because 'Santana' really discussed them with me to help me, telling me in detail her side and how she felt and often also how it related to what was usually the current issue at hand that had sparked the conversation in the first place. She'd start by saying something like: "You remember that day 'Quinn' hurt you and I felt worried, well that's how I feel right now." ****When I get past our teen years, it's going to be so much harder writing from her perspective because stuff beyond that hasn't been so well discussed at all. **

**Another reviewer mentioned they've seen Parenthood which features a young boy with Asperger's. I've seen that too and I think the character is done well, but it's also true that there are many many gender differences. For one example, girls tend to choose "people" interests like Britney Spears to memorize every detail of, rather than "thing" interests like trains like boys usually do. Of the two, Britney has the better potential to help a kid figure out how to be normal in social situations because imitating and/or raving about Britney (especially if she's currently a hit on the charts) might even be seen as cool for a while. ****Another thing when it comes to making friends is that girls are more likely to gain BIG BAD Santana-type protectors than boys are. Boys don't really protect other boys as much. ****Of course my 'Santana' was the best big bad protector of them all. I don't even care if I'm biased. I don't care that I never got special help from a "real" professional either when I was little (other than 'Josie' who you'll meet in this chapter). It doesn't matter because I know 'Santana' taught me more than they ever could have. **

**Thanks so much for reading :)**

* * *

**Chapter 4 – The Brave And The Vulnerable **

**Brittany S. Pierce, Present**

Emotions are strange things to me. It's not at all as if I don't feel them, it's just I can't always perceive them for what they are.  
They always come on strongly, but not clearly. It doesn't matter which one, they all feel like my head has been locked in one of those torture boxes which crush you from all sides. A lot of the time I can't identify one from another and tell them apart. Most of the time I can figure out if it is a positive or negative type of emotion, but that's the best I can do.  
I've heard most kids can figure out exactly how they feel before they can walk properly.

Emotions are too big for me. They make me short circuit out and my mind goes blank so I can't think. Usually in those times I blurt out something stupid about Lord Tubbington. That's my cat.  
When I feel really emotional my thoughts practically become a black hole and I'll blurt out anything I can actually manage to think about, just to have something to say. I guess that's why I talk about cats so much.  
When people ask me what emotion I'm feeling, they seem to expect either one of two responses. Some people expect me so say one of those boring stock answers everyone says like, "not too bad thanks, yourself?"  
Other people like are actually interested, and they seem to want a really specific smart answer like, "I feel one part guilty, two parts scared and two parts sad" and then they wants reasons to go with all of those feelings.

I can never figure out which type of answer different people want.

This one time, I was out shopping for new spy gear stuff for Santana. By the way, once she hit puberty she would never admit to still enjoying our under cover missions, and she always made a big fuss about reminding me how nice she was to still play that game with me.  
But just between us, she was totally even more into us having walkie-talkies and night goggles and setting Lord T up to stand guard for our tradition of stealthily stealing cookies at night, than even I was.  
Anyway, as I was browsing for this really awesome pen that could be both a telescope and a laser shooter, the saleslady asked me that awful question of 'how I was.'  
She seemed like a nice lady, and I liked her, and I kind of wanted a discount so I gave her my very best "specific" answer and tried to tell her my mood in sixteen parts even if I wasn't sure if what I was saying was exactly right. I got to "one part hopeful" about said potential discount, before she snapped at me and walked off.  
Since then, I've found a way to stick it to 'em. These days I just say I feel 'grande' which in Spanish just means 'big,' because at least that answer is always true. I guess Santana and I both find it easiest to express ourselves in Spanish.

Santana's an emotional girl too. But unlike me she always knows exactly what she's feeling. Sometimes, I think she envies me, she's always been smart with her feelings in a way that once she knows what emotion it is, it actually means something to her. That makes things really different, because for her there are consequences. Feeling lonely to her means that nobody wants her. Feeling lonely to me means just that I'm lonely, I can't take it that step further. In spite of my eternal confusion, I guess that's easier.

She had it hard when she was young. Her Abuela was the only one who was really there for her, but that lady has about as much maternal instinct as wolf spider. Really, it's lucky that she didn't have Santana for brunch one day. Her mom was there too, but she wasn't there at the same time, if you know what I mean. She was always working and spent most of her time with whichever boyfriend she was with of the moment. I guess Santana feels things more deeply now, because she started feeling emotions that were too big for her when she was too young to really handle them.

Santana's dad only really started taking her for one weekend a month when her parent's divorce was finalized when she turned five. That was when he remembered, I mean.  
Before that it was no regular thing, he could be gone for months and Santana just had to wait and wait for him to come back. All that rejection in a person so young changes you. It gives you the idea that you're unwanted, and that you're unworthy of love.  
I don't blame her for thinking like that, because I can personally remember so many times that her Mom and her Abuela yelled at her pretty much just for being Santana, and told her she was just like her father, and I know it happened even more when I wasn't around.

When she was little she seemed so ashamed of herself all the time. She seemed to think that the reason her family didn't want her around much, was because she was like some kind of defective model.  
I think after a while she became convinced that she really was a bad person. So, she became defensive and started acting like one.  
She began to lash out at anyone she could.  
I guess after such a long time of feeling rejected and weak, being seen as a cold-hearted bitch was better.

And when her defenses came up, she started closing her feelings off to where nobody could get at them, least of all herself.

The exception was when she was with me.

It took me a long time to understand that the way Santana was with other people was more a defense, than who she really was.  
I guess she felt safe enough to be herself around me, because she knew that I didn't have it in me to judge her.  
I struggled, wondering for years which Santana was real, and I should have known all along, that of the course the real one was the one that was mine.

* * *

**Brittany S. Pierce, 10 years old. **

In spite of the fact that Santana begged and pleaded with Susan that she could take care of Brittany, Susan still got Brittany an aide that was supposed to come over most afternoons and see how she was doing.

Brittany kind of liked Josie, but she hated the fact that she was singled out for special treatment, and she swore it was _for no reason_.

Santana detested Josie with every fiber of her being. She thought that it was totally obvious that she was a condescending butt-head, even if Brittany didn't think so. She was more than a little on the overweight side, which provoked a steady stream of Santana's gleeful insults.  
Santana also liked to walk around holding her nose when Josie was near, and Josie had fallen into paranoia about this, always using breath mints and showering more often, even though Santana had never revealed the exact location of the frequently-alluded-to smell.  
But in Santana's mind, the worst thing of all was that Josie thought she could take away her job. Helping Brittany was _Santana's_ thing.

Understandably, Josie was always shooing Santana out of the room, but that hardly deterred her. Santana hated to leave Brittany alone with her, and felt a red hot anger every time Josie told Brittany that she was too helpless to do certain things. Santana doubted she had a license of any kind. The Pierces weren't rich so she knew that Susan probably would have had to look for someone less qualified as a compromise.

Santana made it her mission to get rid of her, so she began to teach Brittany things to say to drive her away.  
She made Brittany parrot fat jokes and then some more rude jokes about Josie's mother. She also taught her how to swear in Spanish because in Santana's opinion, that was much stronger than swearing in English. Santana knew more creative ways to swear in Spanish than she did in English, because of the excessively long torrents of it that would come out of her Abuela's mouth, always directed at Santana herself, and sometimes at her absent father.  
If there was one thing Santana was good at now, it was being mean.

In her own way, Brittany was constantly helping Santana's crusade to rid the Pierce home of Josie with some of her random comments. The first thing she said to Josie was "I'm sorry you have _aids_."

Susan had hissed at her daughter angrily, "She doesn't have _aids_, Brittany, she is an aide to help you learn how to look after yourself better, and to help you with your homework."

Brittany replied, "Um… I'm sorry you are _aids_ then, that's really sad."

Susan gave up, but made a mental note to ask Brittany who it was that was telling her about sexually transmitted diseases.

Brittany was a natural mimic, she took to imitating Santana a little too well. After her brilliant imitation of Santana's 'Save the Josie Whale' speech, and after dumping her cup of water on Josie's head as part of the performance, that was it, Josie was gone.  
When Susan asked Brittany if she had said something to her to make her leave, Brittany was completely honest with her when she said she didn't think so.

To celebrate their victory, Santana was going over to Brittany's for a sleepover. They never went to Santana's because the only time they tried that Brittany just stood in the middle of Santana's room the whole time completely confused by the new setting. They were still working on that.  
_Well, that, and the fact that I don't want Brittany to have to hear Mami and Abuela yelling at me all night_, Santana thought. _Brittany hears enough just in the twenty minutes she usually stays in my room after walking me home._

Now, they were slowly walking to Brittany's house. Brittany was in a randomly apologetic mood, petting the ducks on the way, and apologizing that she hadn't brought them the bread from her sandwiches.  
_At least i've managed to convince her not to do that anymore,_ Santana thought. There wasn't much to eat of sandwiches when you didn't eat the bread. Brittany had a tendency to forget that she needed to eat.  
Santana watched her try to pick up a duck, the bird staying still and patiently waiting for her to get a good grip to support its weight. _She forgets to eat, but_ s_omehow she always seems to remember that the ducks needed feeding, _Santana thought, rolling her eyes.

They passed a paddock and next thing Santana knew, Brittany was climbing up the gate and clinging to the top, leaning over towards the horse, and tearfully apologizing to it.

"I'm so sorry your horn fell off," Brittany all but sobbed.

Santana sucked in a breath, afraid she was going to fall. She put hand out and let it stop inches from Brittany's lower back and sighed. She didn't want to startle her by touching her, because that could make things much worse, and almost certainly cause Brittany to lose her balance.  
This kind of frustration was becoming a regular thing in Santana's world. There were times where Santana needed to touch her out of necessity, or other times like when Brittany's hair needed fixing, which was kind of all the time because she wasn't very good at doing it herself.

There were also moments that Santana just wanted to show her friend how she felt about her, or moments when Santana felt scared herself, like the time she had broken her Abuela's antique vase. She'd just wanted to bury her face in Brittany's neck and cry.

Brittany was the only one that knew the real story about the vase. After stammering for a while, Santana had admitted how afraid she was about her family finding out about it.  
She had told a different story to the boys at school, bragging her butt off instead, and telling them how much money she'd cost her family, and that she was totally badass for not caring about it.

But she couldn't lie to Brittany, and she hadn't even wanted to. Santana had just wanted to hear her say that everything was okay. She wished that Brittany would put her arms around her and hold her sometimes.

In the few years they had known each other now, Brittany had been getting much more comfortable with holding pinkies with her friend, but sometimes Santana just wanted more, but she would never pressure her friend and say it out loud.

_Right now I just wish I could hold onto her so she doesn't fall off the damn gate and break her neck_, Santana thought, her body tensing.

Sighing, and knowing this wasn't possible, she retracted her hand away and spotted Brittany from the ground ready to attempt to catch her if she actually fell. She was relieved when Brittany jumped down, even if a bit ungracefully, and they walked on.

Brittany began apologizing to blades of grass next for stepping on them. Santana sighed again. She knew where all this apologizing was coming from.  
She knew that Brittany hadn't forgotten what Quinn had said to her, and it wasn't like Quinn was going to let Brittany forget it either. She reminded Brittany nearly every day that she didn't like her, and that she didn't deserve for Santana to be her friend.  
No matter how many times Santana reassured her that Quinn was just talking shit, Brittany still didn't seem to be able to believe her. Santana wanted to beat Quinn up, but she was already down to being one warning away from getting suspended from school.

_Just wait til next year_, Santana thought angrily, aiming bad vibes at Quinn. _Next year all the warnings reset and I'm back up to five, and I'd totally lose one to teach you a lesson._

Even though Brittany was directing all her apologizing to inanimate things right now, Santana knew the apologies were really meant for her. Santana could tell Brittany was worried about what she would do while Santana was sleeping over. She seemed to have a limit for how long she could appear normal, and she tended to use it all up at school.  
At night, Brittany could be confused and inconsolable, thrashing around in her sleep and then getting up dozens of times to do pointless things that suddenly seemed important to her at midnight. She was completely unguarded then, because she seemed to have no other choice but to be herself.

It was a contrast to how she was in school. These days, Brittany was constantly attempting to be more normal by copying everything Santana did. Santana was also noticing that Brittany was becoming a lot quieter, she almost seemed determined to react to almost nothing, just in case it gave her away as being different.

Santana knew that Brittany felt bad about 'being weird' and keeping Santana awake on their sleepovers sometimes, but Santana didn't mind. At least it was the _real_ Brittany.

_I like you better this way, Britt_, Santana thought, watching the girl apologize to the cracks in the footpath. _You're quirky, but at least you're you. I don't like spending time with just your imitation of me._

Tonight turned out to be one of Brittany's better nights. She was calm and relaxed, and just happy to be near Santana.

They had just enjoyed some 'adult cherries' as Brittany called them. Santana went with it, even though she kind of thought they looked more like plums.  
Now they were watching an old show called Superted on Brittany's TV, side by side on the couch.  
Brittany was sitting on the edge of the couch paying rapt attention, mouthing the words to the opening that was in every episode.

The Rainbow Unillama was old news, Superted was Brittany's thing now and had been for a while.  
Santana thought that maybe she related to that bear who was discarded from the factory because there was something wrong with him, like a factory flaw. The good thing though, was that someone found him and brought him to life and gave him superpowers. Santana guessed that Superted made Brittany feel powerful. The episode ended on a cliffhanger with Superted floating through space having lost his memory. Brittany was bouncing around seemingly unable to calm down.

"What happens next, San?" she asked. Brittany often asked Santana questions that Santana couldn't possibly answer. This one was no different, no way did Santana know what happened in the series final. The retro channel was only going to play it next week and Santana hadn't seen it before.  
She wasn't going to tell her this though, on account of her insides turning slowly to mush.  
Brittany using her nickname always made her soft, so instead she told her that Superted would get his memory back and he would save the world like he always did.

She even acted it out a little, while Brittany hyperactively ran around the room flying an imaginary spaceship, yelling that Santana was totally her 'Mother Nature' that had given her superpowers.

Santana got into it for a while then she paused and just sat there watching her. She was worried. When she first met Brittany she was able to join her when she played make-believe. They had spent many hours chasing rainbows as Brittany learned to share her imaginative worlds with another person.  
But now, Santana could feel herself changing. With the exception of their spy games (which she still excelled at in a truly badass way) she was losing her ability to lose herself in the moment when she played with her. Gone were the days that Santana believed that babies came from cabbages and that Cinderella band-aids were things to be treasured.

It wasn't going to be long until trying to join in to Brittany's games would be just awkward for her. Santana was growing up fast, so fast she was already running rings around Brittany who would probably forever inhabit the domain of a child, in many ways not just imagination-wise.

Santana didn't want to grow up if it meant losing this way of relating to her friend. _What if we grow so far apart that we stop being best friends? _Santana thought.

She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling her chest constricting. She willed herself not to cry, not wanting to disturb Brittany who was now 'catching stars' and with some difficulty was throwing her fat cat Lord Tubbington into the air to get them down for her, much to his apparent distress.

Brittany ran over to her and skidded to a stop beside her and studied her for a moment. "San… what's wrong?" she asked.

Santana's heart leapt. _She had noticed!_ She had never done that before. Usually Brittany wasn't able to tell when Santana was sad, unless she was crying. Brittany was now a long way from maybe thinking Santana's tears were related to being a self cleaning device, but this was a new level of progress altogether. Suddenly, Santana wanted to be brave and see if she could achieve another first with Brittany tonight, but she didn't want to push her luck too far.

"Britts," she said slowly, "would you mind if I did your hair?"

Brittany hesitated.

"You can say no," Santana told her, her eyes full of understanding. She knew how hard it was for Brittany to let herself be touched.

Brittany didn't speak, she just edged closer to Santana and sat directly in front of her.

"I'll do it in braids like mine okay?" said Santana, hardly able to contain her joy.

Brittany nodded.

Santana got on her knees and started by touching the ends of Brittany's hair, winding them through her fingers. When no obvious panic happened she moved her hands up and began combing her fingers lightly through her friend's tangled blonde hair. Brittany cringed and started breathing deeply, but Santana kept going, applying different levels of pressure and noting that Brittany seemed to calm down when Santana maintained a firm touch, although still a gentle one. After a while, Santana dropped the pretense of playing hairdresser, the braids forgotten, and she sat as close to her friend as she dared, petting her and stroking her hair, resting her hand at the top of Brittany's head for as long as she dared before bringing it down again.

They sat in silence, keeping the repetitive motion going for a long time. Santana didn't want to stop and Brittany had perhaps forgotten how to move. When Susan called them for dinner, Brittany finally turned around. Her eyes were wide and she was looking at Santana as if she'd never seen her before, as if she realized that Santana's actions were some type of affection and that confused and intrigued her.

Brittany's mom wasn't the affection giving type. She ran such a strict rule based household for Brittany, that there wasn't much room for hugs and kisses, and it wasn't like Brittany had ever asked for it, or done anything but pull away when people had occasionally tried.

This receiving affection thing was completely new, and as Brittany now saw it, decidedly far more interesting than Superted.  
Santana smiled warmly at her, realizing that this was the very best so far of the handful of moments she'd had where she felt like she and Brittany were on the same page, both feeling the same connection.

Brittany copied her and managed a small smile back, but the stunned look on her face remained, which was soon matched by Susan who couldn't help but notice her daughter's hair was the neatest tonight than she had ever seen it in Brittany's entire life.

* * *

A couple of months later, school broke out and winter break began. Brittany's mom wasn't fond of the Christmas season because of the hysterical effect it had on Brittany.  
She usually spent most of her time laying traps for Santa which were always accidentally set off by Susan at the worst of times.  
She still laid the traps, but Brittany didn't know what she wanted to do with Santa anymore when she finally caught him. Before Santana came into her life, she had wanted Santa to be her best friend, but no way could she leave for the North Pole with him now without Santana.

Maybe this time if she caught him, she would get mad at him for not writing her back every time she had asked for him to be her friend. She had listed it as her number one wish on her Christmas lists practically every year.  
Sure she understood that he wouldn't have time to write her back during the busy holiday season when kids were writing to him all the time, but Brittany had always sent him letters all year round, and she was sure most kids didn't write their Christmas lists until at least October which left nine months of the year that he was probably sitting around doing nothing, which was time he could have used to be writing to her.

She appreciate that he had always brought her great presents, but she had wanted a friend for all these years more than anything. She knew that he liked kids, because why else was he always inviting them to sit in his lap? So where was her personal invitation to the North Pole?

A few nights ago, Santana had slept over again, and Brittany had put glow in the dark paint on her own nose so she could find Santana in the dark.  
It was lucky that she did. Brittany was a light sleeper and sprang awake instantly when Santana started shifting in her sleeping bag on the floor whining that she really had to pee.

Neither of them could find their night vision goggles, so Brittany lit a path to the bathroom with her glowing nose for Santana. She then used her nose so they could find their way to the kitchen, and together they broke into the box of cupcakes Mrs Pierce had made for the church bake sale tomorrow.

Brittany picked out the only pink one for Santana and was overjoyed when Santana solemnly handed half of it back to her for Brittany to eat herself. Santa would have never shared. He never even left any of the cookies Brittany left out for him. Santa_na was a much better friend, and not just because she had a whole two extra letters in her name._

Brittany didn't have anything on her Christmas list this year. She already had a friend, so what more could she want?

All Santana wanted for Christmas was a pet snake. She was pretty sure she wasn't going to get one though, and she knew she was probably going to end up with more of those boring Sunday dresses that she hated so much.  
She wasn't bothering to write a Christmas list, she figured that asking her mom every day for one would work just as well.  
Brittany vowed to find her a backup snake in case Santa forgot. Santana said that 'Santa' forgot her all the time.

* * *

By Christmas day, Brittany had acquired a snake, and was keeping it in a box in her room.  
Christmas day was never easy for her. There were always so many relatives crowding around her, and to her they were just people that she hardly knew.  
Her mother always hosted a party at their house, and Brittany hated Great Uncle so-and-so trying to ruffle her hair while he told her how big she had grown.

She also hated the way they talked about her as soon as she inevitably ran away from the clutching hands and hid in her room.  
The party had moved inside, so Brittany had immediately found her way outdoors to get away from the noise. She had crept around the front and was planning to sit in the garden, when she heard a sniffling noise coming from in there already. She was about to run away because if her flowers had a cold, then she didn't want to go sit with them after all, but then a small voice spoke amidst sobs, hardly able to get the word out.

"B…Britts?"

Brittany peered in and saw Santana, huddled in the flowerbed, her face red and blotchy liked she'd already been crying for a while.

Brittany was confused and her thoughts ran wild. _It was Christmas day, shouldn't she be at her house with her family? And why is she hiding in my favorite hiding place? Maybe she's upset because Santa didn't bring her a snake. I can totally fix that. _

Santana's breathing was erratic and she hiccuped every now and then between sobs. She kept fidgeting, unsure where to put her hands and her face was streaked with dirt from the garden that had mixed in with her tears every time she wiped her face.

"Britts… I'm sorry if you're b…busy with it being Christmas and all… it's just… I really wanted to see you," she finally managed to get out, "and if I couldn't see you, I just wanted to sit here."

Brittany's mind short-circuited and her thoughts cut out altogether. A million emotions played on her face before she had managed to blank them out again, trying to figure out how to respond the right way. "Why?" she finally said attempting to model a curious look to go along with the question.

Santana took one last shuddering breath and then pulled herself out of the garden to stand in front of Brittany. She felt exposed by the sudden light shining on her face that the shrubbery had blocked out, and she tried to make herself look as small as possible.  
She followed Brittany's gaze and realized they were both now intently studying her feet.  
She had ran all the way here and hadn't had time to find shoes so it was just her bare feet, with the chipped black nailpolish still left on some of her toes.

"He isn't coming," she finally said, "my Papi. He doesn't even live in this state anymore but my Mami didn't tell me until today. He moved to be with someone else ages ago. I thought he just was too busy at work to see me on weekends now, but he's completely gone. He's got a new family too. He promised to always drop by on Christmas and see me….but…Mami said that he's not coming back. He doesn't want to be with me. Mami said so, and so did my Abuela."

She hid her face in her hands now, dissolving into more tears than Brittany thought was physically possible. Brittany had never seen her cry so hard before. Santana usually hid her emotions from everyone except Brittany, and even then she had still been guarded. She'd also felt uncomfortable with putting her pain onto Brittany, wanting to protect the other girl from the bad things in her life.

Santana wished she hadn't come now, she shouldn't be doing this to Brittany on Christmas. "I'll just go Britt, I'm okay," she said through her fingers, turning to leave.

"Wait," Brittany said softly.

Santana peeked out and saw Brittany's eyes were full of concern and sympathy for her. She could read Brittany so easily.  
When Brittany looked at her like this, she immediately knew how much she cared and felt a little better.

Most people choose to display certain emotions to socially fit in better, but Brittany couldn't do that. When she just let herself be like she was doing now, Santana could see everything she was thinking and feeling, Brittany had no idea how to modify her body language to get what she wanted like when Noah did his innocent expression to the teacher to get out of trouble. The only thing she knew how to do was to make her whole face blank and Santana hated it when she did that. When Brittany was unguarded, she could see everything that was inside of her.

She watched Brittany stand there before her, with feelings that only Santana could label flickering across her face.

She knew that Brittany was trying to figure out what to do.

Santana figured that soon Brittany would work out that this was one of those times that Santana wanted her to comfort her and hold her pinky. She was getting good at being able to tell when Santana wanted her to do that. She was also getting pretty good at working out when Santana was hungry and wanted Brittany to make her (or rather _explode_ her) some popcorn, or bored and wanted her to draw her a picture.

Santana almost stopped crying in shock when Brittany tentatively put a hand on her arm, curling it around her sleeve and began shuffling closer to her, gradually moving her hand further up her arm the closer she came. After a beat she slowly slid her hand around her shoulder behind her until she was gripping the back on Santana's shirt. Brittany was taller than her, not by much, but enough that Santana could feel Brittany's warm breath on her cheek.

The last time they had been this close was when they first met years ago at Santana's Papi's waiting room, and Santana braced herself for Brittany to pass out like last time, but Brittany stood firm, drawing her other arm around Santana and clasping her hands together behind her. Santana shuffled her feet closer so that her bare toes were now half on top of Brittany's shoes and their bodies were touching. Brittany could feel Santana breathe out and in rapidly against her, trying to stop herself from crying again.

When Brittany started stroking her hair, the same way Santana had done for her before, Santana broke and lay her head on Brittany's shoulder crying hot tears into her neck. Santana had craved affection from Brittany for so long, but not as long as she had craved affection from her father. Maybe she had lost her papi for good now, but something with Brittany felt as if it was finally just beginning.

Brittany didn't stop. She clutched at Santana with one hand, and ran her fingers through Santana's thick black hair with the other until the other girl had finally calmed and stopped shuddering against her, and had shifted her feet completely on top of Brittany's so Brittany was supporting all her weight.

"You're my best friend, my only friend," Santana mumbled into the side of Brittany's neck. She knew that Brittany wouldn't have the presence of mind to respond, at least not with actual words, but the fact that she was here, holding her, making her feel so safe in spite of how hard this would be for her, spoke for more than could ever be said.


	5. Is This Real Life?

**A/N I've decided story writing is super hard and confusing and that I'm in awe of the people on here that do this all the time. I've heard a rumor that some people on here have like a hundred stories going. They need like an awesome big rainbow cake made for them or something. **

**Anyway, with this story, I think of memories and I draw equal or related parallels to the Glee world and that's the really easy part. It's the whole 'which parts should I include?' and making sure to explain enough so it translates from my head to yours. That's hard. I don't actually know what I'm doing to be honest. **

**But anyway, I'd love to hear people's thoughts… don't be afraid to let me know if you have any advice, I'm like the least scary person ever. Or if you relate to something here, I'd love to hear your story too. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 5- Is This Real Life?**

**Brittany S. Pierce, Present**

As she ran her fingers through my hair that time when we were only ten, it was like she was clearing away a bit of the fog so I could finally see her properly. That's how I see that moment. It was like I was on my other planet like always and she came and shone a light like a beacon so I could find my way to her, or at least take those first few steps toward reaching her.

That's what autism is like really, it's kind of like living in a misty world of fog that swirls around you blocking things from getting out and in. Before you realize you're trapped, it's honestly not really that bad, it keeps you from thinking about things too much for that.

The difference between having what they call an autism spectrum disorder and having Asperger's syndrome is that, while all of us start out locked away inside that planet, those with the milder version have the best potential to make their way out. Most do at some point. Those with classified autism don't always. Many stay in their own worlds and don't even realize they're in them in the first place. I guess there is a certain beauty in that, an untouchable otherworldly quality. Gradually as I moved further into Santana's world I lost that and only retained a fraction of what I had before. People noticed. I noticed too.

But I'd do it all over again, anytime.

I felt like as I glimpsed everything that is Santana and her world beyond I expanded, letting everything she showed me fill me up inside. It was like something in me grew, turning into something that allowed me to find her even when she wasn't shining that light on me anymore.

You know what the main part of it was though? Autism by definition means "a retreat into the self."

That moment was really the first time I ever realized that there's something out there much bigger than myself.

* * *

**Brittany S. Pierce, age 13.**

Santana couldn't believe this dumb class. Their art teacher was treating them like elementary school kids by forcing them all to make Father's Day cards.

Brittany wasn't that into it because they wouldn't let her use crayons, but after a bit of pouting she had made one anyway.

In Santana's case, the very thought of Father's Day cards or Mother's Day cards and actually participating in this lame activity made her get on the bitchtown express.

She had even snapped at Brittany before when Brittany offered to help her make her card so she didn't get in trouble.

Brittany had gathered a piece of black cardboard and some glitter that she thought Santana would like. "I'll help you make yours San, between the two of us we can make the best card ever to send to Dr Lopez."

"I don't have a dad, remember? Why can't you get that through your head?"

Brittany had dropped the cardboard and glitter like it was on fire and now sat silently at Santana's side. Santana felt terrible, she hated snapping at Brittany, and she especially hated that it was happening so much more often lately.

Quinn slid into the seat on Santana's other side, already having made a professional looking card in a matter of minutes, even though Santana hadn't seen her pick up any supplies. Maybe she got that nose known as Berry and her little friends to do it.

Santana turned away from Brittany and looked at Quinn, glad that she had something to do other than feel guilty and sit in silence with Brittany.

"So you're going right? To the dance at Dalton?" Quinn whispered to Santana.

"Of course. What are we wearing?" Santana whispered back.

Nobody really knew why, but in Junior High it was completely essential for groups attending a dance to be themed and matching. The Dalton Jr High dances were held every Friday night, although strangely the boys and girls rarely actually danced together. Honestly, the boys mostly talked among themselves, and the girls stuck to their in-groups on the other side.

Quinn frowned prettily in thought of which theme they could take. "80s?" she asked.

"Nope. I heard Ashleigh's groups is doing that already," said Santana.

"How 'bout cheerleaders," Quinn suggested, naming her favorite high school aspiration and also favorite conversation topic since she was in 5th grade.

Brittany sighed. When Santana and Quinn were together these days cheerleading, popularity and boys were all they could talk about. They were determined to make it on the squad next year when they were all at McKinley high.

Santana nodded her approval and Quinn began to plan how they would find dresses that looked a little like uniforms, but Santana's mind was on Brittany. Hearing her sigh and knowing that she'd rather be anywhere but here, Santana quickly glanced sideways at her and then under the table placed her hand gently on Brittany's knee, running her thumb up and down her skin to comfort her, trying to let her know that she wasn't really mad at her about before.

Brittany spent the next quarter hour playing with Santana's fingers like they were the most interesting thing in the world. _To her, they probably really are interestin_g, Santana thought. Brittany had become a lot more comfortable with being touched, so long as it was only Santana. Santana hands felt like they were just an extension of Brittany, like the two of them together were really just a single unit. She could find comfort in Santana now, as soon as Santana touched her it was like her mind ceased to work and her thoughts went blank, but now it was in a good way, like she had fallen inside a cloud and was floating inside, safe from the world, without the need to question anything.

Santana would be lying if she didn't say she used this to her advantage, like just now. She had turned Brittany's brain off not only to calm the girl, but so she could make conversation without Brittany interjecting with her random comments about ducks or whatever. This way, she could score a few points with Quinn and butter her up by telling her how good she would look in her outfit to keep the peace. Santana knew that she couldn't keep doing this forever and Brittany was beginning to ask questions about why they were suddenly talking to Quinn again. Santana realized that she had to talk to her friend and try to explain what was going on. She'd planned to it yesterday and the day before that... and the day before that. _Tonight_, she promised herself silently, nodding along to Quinn's excited chatter.

* * *

"Britts," Santana began hesitantly when they were settled on the couch in Santana's room that night. In the past few years Brittany had gradually become accustomed to finding her way around Santana's bedroom although she would get lost in any other room in the house.

Santana's mom was nowhere in sight and Santana guessed she was probably doing a night shift, or sleeping over at her boyfriend's house.

_How do I put this,_ Santana thought, then noticing she had gained Brittany's full attention, she just jumped right into it. She was never good at beating around the bush. Besides, with Brittany, that kind of thing tended to lead them far away from the bush, out into the forest and then out of the country. "Brittany, okay, you know how I've been talking to Quinn?"

"Oh," Brittany said, "Is she giving you a hard time? Cause you can totally just beat her up. Or do that thing where it's like you have laser beams coming from your eyes."

"No… It's not like that. Look Brittany, I know for a long time it has just been you and me, but things are changing and we don't have enough people," Santana said willing her to understand.

"Enough people for what?" Brittany asked confused.

"I knew you wouldn't get it. Britts, we're gonna be in high school soon, and in high school there are things called labels," Santana stated, her voice indicating it was something to be feared.

"What's a labels? Like a spoon?"

"No, that's a ladle. A label is something people call you based on the way they see you. And you either get a Lima loser label or a winner label."

"You can't have both?"

"No."

"Why weren't labels important before?" Brittany pouted.

"Before high school, everybody is in small classes where there are only maybe two or three people that you really have to convince that you're too scary for them to hurt you. Also, no one really cares because when you're a little kid, you aren't expected to be defined yet, you're kind of in progress. We now have to be out-of-progress and ready made for Sue Sylvester's Cheer squad. From what I've heard, the quickest way to be popular is to join that squad and you get benefits like no other," Santana said beginning to smile at the thought of how much free stuff there would be.

"But I'm not out of progress yet," Brittany said, her bottom lip beginning to tremble, "Does that me definitely a Lima loser already?"

"No… no…no," Santana reached for her but Brittany jerked back out of her reach and nearly fell off her half of the couch. "B, no. You're different, you're special and I like you just the way you are, okay? The rules are different for you, it's just… we've got to pretend that you're following the same rules as everyone else because we can't be the two kids that sit at the back of the class that nobody likes. It can't be just us again them, because there will just be too many of them. Please understand, we need Quinn to help us because she's kind of the person that demands popularity, and I've already heard she's a shoo-in for the cheer squad," Santana said pleadingly.

"I liked it when it was just us against them."

"I did too B," Santana wasn't sure if this was true anymore, but it definitely had been for a long time.

Brittany was still looking hurt, sitting as far away from Santana as she could get on the couch.

"B, I think Miguel wants to talk to you," Santana said in an attempt to cheer Brittany up, referring to the pet "snake" that Brittany had bought her a few Christmas's before when she had found out her dad wasn't coming back.

"_Come upstairs and see your Christmas present!" Brittany said as she hauled a still tearful Santana up the stairs and led her over to a brown box with a ribbon tied to the top. "It's your snake!"_

_Frankly, Santana was a little afraid. She didn't really want a snake, she had just said so to look tough and maybe annoy her parents a little. Her hands shook a bit as she untied the ribbon, and peered fearfully in the box waiting for a cobra to jump out at her. Instead, looking up at her was a tiny little turtle. _

"_Um… Britts, this isn't a snake," Santana said confused, but relieved. If anyone could have caught a snake and kept it in a cardboard box it would have been Brittany. Santana would have to remember to tell her when she was joking about things and when she wasn't because from Brittany's point of view, it must have looked like she really wanted a snake. _

"It is so!_" Brittany said enthusiastically, "I looked at all the snakes, but they looked so sad next to this one because this was the only snake that wasn't homeless. I didn't want to get you a poor snake that couldn't afford his own house, so even though he was smaller I just had to pick this one." _

_Santana burst into laugher. "I love it Brittany. It's the best present ever, honestly," she said loving how much her friends face lit up when she said it, "I'm gonna call him Miguel because he reminds me of my rich old wrinkly great uncle." She picked up the 'snake' and kissed its shell. _

"No," Brittany said, "Miguel and I just texted each other before. By the way, he says he wants more lettuce. I guess he likes to eat them with his dead mice and whatever else snakes eat. I texted back that that was kind of Masterchef of him but he didn't reply yet."

Brittany's mood was still flat and Santana knew she couldn't fix that. When Brittany got low, she could be low for days even after whatever had upset her was long over or even resolved. Alternatively, she could be high for days, bouncing off the walls all because she got a free ice-cream about five days ago.

"Britts," Santana sighed, "I need to know that you're with me on this. I can't lose you. The Cheerios will be great. You like dancing, it's just kind of like dancing with a whole lot of pep, which come to think of it already sounds like what you do."

"Quinn doesn't like me," said Brittany in a small voice.

Santana grinned at her. "You've got something she and I don't have right now, Britts." she said.

"What's that?" Brittany asked.

Santana pointed to Brittany's chest. As Santana's mind was reaching greater heights of maturity, to her great distress her body wasn't. She was as flat-chested as ever. Contrary to this, while Brittany's mind remained virtually unchanged, her body was aging up faster than anyone in their class. The boys were looking at Brittany now, they knew she was a little weird sure, but looks and boobs were apparently more important than eccentricities.

"Oh those? I hate those." Brittany wrinkled her nose.

"I don't," Santana said, then felt her face heating up. She wished she hadn't said anything.

Brittany didn't notice in the slightest. "They make my clothes look weird. I prefer my body the way it was before the big pepperoni cupcakes came."

Santana almost choked. "They're called boobs, Brittany," she told her.

Brittany shrugged. "You can have them if you want them," she offered.

"I… can?" Suddenly the room felt a lot smaller. Santana needed some air... or maybe even a cold shower.

"Sure. I'll make them out to you," Brittany said reaching for a piece of paper and beginning to make out a cheque, "desk of Brittany S. Pierce. Is S spelled right San?"

"Yes," Santana choked.

"Okay, pay to the order of Santana Lopez, two pepperoni boob cupcakes," she announced and signed it drawing a few hearts beside Santana's name and giving it to Santana who clutched it to her own front, not sure where to look.

"How long do you think it will take for the order to transfer?" Brittany asked impatiently, when Santana didn't immediately speak.

"Um… I'm not sure Britt. But I'll put this under my pillow," Santana assured her.

"Noooo!" Brittany shrieked and this time Santana was the one who nearly fell off the couch, "that's where the tooth fairy goes. I don't want her to find it."

"In my jewellery box then?" asked Santana after surveying the room.

Brittany nodded and Santana relaxed, tucking the piece of paper away and then pulled Brittany into her arms, careful to not touch her 'cupcakes'. Brittany burrowed into her, her feet dangling off the side of the couch. It had been a difficult conversation for them both and Brittany was still worked up about it, and Santana wasn't faring much better.

Realizing she was clutching Brittany too tightly, Santana loosened her hold so Brittany could lean back into her further and find a comfortable spot.  
When she finally stopped wriggling and had pressed herself against Santana's incredibly flat chest, Santana tightened her hold on her again.  
She was just relieved that no conversation has transpired where Brittany had decided Santana's boobs were like pancakes.

Santana tickled her. "Hey, I got you something too. It's not as good as pepperoni cupcakes but I didn't want us to start high school without them," she said and pulled two necklaces and two bracelets out of her pocket. They all were yin yang symbols in halves. "It's friendship jewellery. I couldn't decide whether I liked the bracelets or necklaces best so I sto- … so I bought both," she said covering quickly. "You see, that symbol means we're two opposite halves of the same thing. I'm the dark half, you're the light half and we complement each other."

"Oh! San! I love them, they're beautiful!" Brittany told her.

Santana helped her put them on and admired them. She loved the way they looked against Brittany's skin.

After a beat, Santana asked again, "You're with me on this Britt, you aren't going to make me do this alone are you?"

"No," Brittany said tiredly, "I would follow you anywhere. I wish things didn't have to change, that's all. But for you, I'll pretend to be out of progress and that I'm not scared of Quinn."  
She closed her eyes and lowered her head back down to Santana's chest. She was moving her feet around trying to curl them around a part of Santana. They often played the feet game in class. When they couldn't hold hands they'd capture each other's feet, touching at the ankles.

Seeing Brittany was still feeling around pointing her toes like at ballet, Santana obliged, and shifted Brittany further on top of her so she could reach better. This time, however, Brittany tangled her whole leg up with Santana's instead. Santana smiled, but then frowned as she saw the tension etched into her best friends face.

Santana knew Brittany hated change, she knew that this made her unhappy, but she didn't see they had any other choice. Things were changing around them faster than Brittany could see, let alone keep up with. The scariest thing to Santana was that she was getting all these feelings. She wasn't sure if it was okay to hold Brittany like this anymore, because every time she did it she kind of wanted to kiss her.  
Santana guessed that it was because she had been around Brittany too much and hadn't had as much exposure to guys as a girl needed. She hoped that Quinn would help fix that too. Maybe at the dance she would find a boy that she could kiss and then these strange feelings would go away.

Santana didn't know what she was more upset about. Was it the fact that she was clearly having wrong feelings towards her friend, or that her friend didn't seem to be having wrong feelings back?  
Brittany seemed oblivious to any sort of sexual tension, in fact she seemed oblivious to anything sexual at all, and in a way this made Santana angry.  
The fact that her mom wasn't here right now (and was never here) made her angry too. She hated her mom's new boyfriend. She hated her dad. She hated being alone and she hated feeling alone right now, even though her best friend was lying there, half asleep in her arms.  
Santana tensed, wondering if she could carefully lay Brittany on the couch and go punch something, or even break something. She was always breaking things lately.

"San," Brittany said sleepily, seeming to feel her tense up, "did you see I used the pink crayon to write your cheque?"

_Sitting in her 4th grade classroom, Brittany was bent over her desk working hard at something. _

"_Who is that for?" Santana asked peering over Brittany's shoulder to see what she was doing. _

"_That's my book report for Mr Jefferson. He yelled at me yesterday so I wrote it all in brown, but there's a little bit of blue because by the end looking at all that brown I felt sorry for him," Brittany said matter of factly. She was very particular about picking the right color for each person based on how she felt about them at the time. _

"_Oh. I haven't written mine yet. Hey, Brittany, why don't you ever use the pink crayon, isn't it your favorite color?" Santana asked. _

"_I'm saving the pink crayon, until I'm sure I love somebody. Then I'll always use the pink crayon for them." _

Santana's breath hitched in her throat and she felt tears well in her eyes, her rage leaving her as quickly as it came although she knew it would be back. She hadn't noticed at the time, but come to think of it, Brittany had gotten down her box of unused pink crayons that she had been stashing in a box every time she wore every other color out and got a new pack, and she had taken a pink one out and used it. Santana knew Brittany struggled to articulate her feelings, and she knew that maybe Brittany wasn't aware of what love really was, but the sentiment still meant a lot to her. She nodded her head, her chin brushing against Brittany's hair.  
The fight had gone out of her, and now Santana just wanted to sleep, exactly where she was.

She was afraid to make any sudden moves in case Brittany realized that they were falling asleep on the couch and not on their separate mattresses in Santana's room, but she knew that if she kept Brittany lying on top of her like this all night in this same position, then her arm would probably be numb by morning.

Carefully she lowered Brittany sideways, laying her head onto a pillow beside them. When she was satisfied that Brittany looked comfortable, she flattened herself out against the back of the couch, curling up against Brittany slowly and shifting closer to her until she was spooning her. She pulled a blanket over them both, congratulating herself over the fact that Brittany had barely stirred.

Brittany gave a contented sigh and Santana knew her dreams would be peacefully blank tonight, as would be her own. Santana spent most of her nights alone in the house and even though she had gotten over her fear of the dark and had stopped hiding under her bed with a torch every time any noise sounded, nighttime was still a lonely and cold kind of time for her.  
But, tonight was different, she felt so warm.

After a couple of minutes Brittany stirred and Santana cringed, waiting for the game to be up, for Brittany to spring up and get ready for bed properly doing all her numerous night time routines.

Brittany surprised her when she didn't move, and instead started whispering nonsensical things, indicating her was half asleep.

"Is this real life San?" Brittany asked. It was the only sentence that seemed coherent even it made no sense. Or maybe it did make sense. You always had to listen hard with Brittany, but in her different way, the things she said always did make sense.

It wasn't too crazy to wonder if this moment was real life, because what was happening was kind of unbelievable. Brittany had come so far with her disorder since the day they'd met and Santana was so proud.

"Yeah Britts, this is real life," she whispered back softly into her hair, rubbing her shoulder lightly until she fell completely asleep. In that moment, she wished that they could stay like this forever. High school and Quinn could wait just a little longer, right? Santana had a gnawing feeling that the minute she and Brittany broke apart tomorrow morning this would be a memory and this Santana lying here right now would be a part of her she would never be able to get back. Santana spent the night watching Brittany sleep, clutching her to her body like it was their last night on earth.

* * *

**A/N Three random things: (if this amuses anyone I'll keep doing this)**

**1. I still recall her saying "I don't have a dad, remember?" it was a sentence so loaded with pain that it echoes and haunts me even today. No matter who you are and even if you were me, you couldn't have missed those feelings - they were that strong. I've never heard anything like it since.**

**2. I still have my yin yang necklace.**

**3. Sometimes she still breaks things when she's mad, but never to hurt anybody. I think it's okay to hate on the kitchenware sometimes.** **She has rage.**


	6. For You, I'll Achieve the Impossible

**_xoxo – Thanks for your lovely reviews :) I understand how you feel reading it, it hurts my heart too to write it all down. But I wanted to tell you that I've got some good happy times to share yet, and I wouldn't be so cruel to lead you guys through this without a happy ending. _**

**_Puff614- It totally made my day that you said you wished everyone was a little bit more like Brittany. :D_**

* * *

_So here's what you missed on Glee. Brittany has Asperger's but refuses to talk about it and the only person who really knows is Santana who just wants to help and doesn't care that Brittany's different. Other people just think she's weird and aren't so tolerant so Brittany's been getting bullied a lot which isn't cool. Young Brittany seems pretty clueless and also seems to be spending most of her time being obsessed with things and confusing feelings and really confusing the English language, but there's a running commentary from the somewhat mysterious older Brittany happening at the same time and it seems like older Brittany doesn't have those problems as much anymore. How did that happen? __Santana on the other hand has been going through some tough stuff, her dad's abandoned her and the rest of her family didn't care much to begin with and on top of all that tension there's um, sexual tension because Santana's growing up. Santana's not dealing with her feelings and is instead focusing on getting popular but Brittany's not really into being popular and just wants to be with Santana because lately they've been getting really close and that's kind of a huge milestone for her. Oh, and Santana has written ownership of Brittany's boobs. Just so you know. And that's what you missed, on Glee! _

* * *

**Chapter 6- For You, I'll Achieve the Impossible. **

**Brittany S. Pierce, Present**

Being outgrown sucks. I think it hurt the worst with my sister Katie. We're five years apart and that was a perfect fit at first.

I think back to all the times we played together when she was really young, building pirate ships out of chairs and bedsheets and turning brooms into make believe horses to ride to islands that had vicious dinosaurs made out of wooden spoons and piles of clothing.

It wasn't just playtime, I used to be able to talk to her and tell her anything. That was before I became 'weird Brittany, the black sheep of the family' as she referred to me to her friends. It wasn't like she was a teenager or anything either, she was only six. She was older for her age and I was younger, and for a little while we met in the middle, but then she surpassed me in leaps and bounds.

It hurt less with Santana. When she outgrew me, it wasn't like it was with Katie. Katie started looking at me with pity instead of admiration like she had before. I used to be the cool big sister that could do more than her, but then quite suddenly I was the one who was limited and who could only do less. I was the one everyone waited on while I slowly figured out how much milk I wanted with my cereal at breakfast to the nearest milliliter. I was the one that was hidden behind everyone at family gatherings in case I did something embarrassing like compulsively try to arrange the pool balls on the pool table in rainbow order in the middle of a heated game. Katie's room was filled with pictures of horses and pop stars, not behavior charts like mine was.

Being the expert on being outgrown, I can tell you that if you're like me… some people will outgrow you and never look back like Katie. Others will outgrow you, then there'll be a transition period where they keep trying but they don't really know what to do with you. But then they come back and appreciate you in a new way.

I've never actually managed to outgrow anything. Not even my childhood obsession with dinosaurs that most kids went through about that time. Santana outgrew a lot of things not just me. All her rage for the unfair things in her life took away much of her innocence and then wore away her hope and optimism for things to get better.

I never outgrew any of those things. Not outgrowing hope and having a heart full of it isn't so bad.

I think that's what people who 'don't look back' like Katie are missing out on, 'cause after a while Santana realized that even though we were different now, that just meant we had more to share with each other. She said I could light up the room with my optimism, so I realized that not growing up has its place because there had to be someone who could show Santana the world isn't as dark as she thinks it is.

* * *

**Brittany S. Pierce, age 13.**

_Three hundred and fifty-seven. Three hundred and fifty-eight. Three hundred and… what?_ Brittany's nose crashed into Santana's front door and was quickly followed by the rest of her body. "Unnngh… ow." Brittany moaned, letting herself in and tearing up the stairs to see Santana.

"Santana! It only took me three hundred and fifty eight steps today to walk to your house and as you know it usually takes me three hundred and seventy-five. What is happening?" Brittany howled and started spinning around in a circle.

Santana peered over her bed sheets and regarded her friend. She had just woken up ten minutes ago, it was only early morning and she'd missed her mother again who had (as usual) left early. Santana had been sick for a couple of days now fighting off a bad strain of flu and Brittany had taken to stopping by every morning before school to check she was okay. She was also getting good at calling in sick for her in a deep throaty voice which was actually a pretty good impersonation of Santana's mother.

Brittany always came over after school too. Santana was grateful of this. Her mom had barely glanced at her at any point in spite of Santana looking very weak and pitiful, staggering from room to room and deliberately walking by several times hoping to be noticed before her mother got ready for work. She'd also asked if Santana was practicing bird calls after she'd thrown up her dinner the other night.

"You know Britts," Santana said, eying her friend spinning around frantically and attempting to do some damage control about it, "your legs are getting longer every day… maybe you're taking longer strides and taking less steps."

Brittany stopped dead and cocked her head on one side considering it and then shook her head, still obviously tense.

"Okay." Santana said patiently. Maybe you had a little hop in your steps like the little bunny you can be sometimes, because you were looking forward to seeing me?" Her eyes became slightly hopeful in spite of the sickness which was clouding them and making them otherwise look glassy and unfocused. "Did you have something to tell me?"

"Yes! That's it. I'm going to make a friend today." Brittany announced, charging closer to her excitedly.

The hopeful look in Santana's eyes disappeared and was replaced by a fleeting moment of sudden yet blinding jealousy. She turned her head away and nodded quickly. "Yeah, that's a good idea Britt, you show 'em what you're made of."

"Yes." Brittany repeated, "I will show them what I am made of. And I'll bring someone onto our team. So you can have a rest. So you don't get sick again."

"Brittany! For the last time I did not get sick because all my energy was drained from producing deadly razor blades out of my hair and equally deadly laser beams from my eyes. I got sick the regular way, from Quinn who got it from Noah. Well, actually apparently it's 'Puck' now." Santana rolled her eyes.

Brittany came over and felt Santana's forehead. You feel better today, not like yesterday when it felt like you were burning up.

"Hey, it wasn't so bad," Santana said smirking a little. "It was a good excuse to have an ice cube fight."

"I got you good," Brittany nodded, "and then I even made you wet."

Santana coughed. "Say what?" _How could Brittany know about that little problem she'd been having lately? _

"I stuffed a whole bunch of them down your top. And they didn't stay cube-y for long. So you got wet. And then you got extinct and not on fire any more."

"Extinguished, Brittany. I'm not a dinosaur."

"I know that. Because if you were, then you'd be Santana-saurus and you'd eat me out."

Santana coughed again. "That's eat you 'up' Britts."

"That's confusing. Does that mean if you eat me up you'd start with my feet and make your way up to my head, 'cause doesn't it make more sense to eat your food from insides to outsides? You know, because all the good stuff is the insides… like the cream in an Oreo and the banana inside the skin. The outsides are the boring parts."

Santana quit listening at this point. Brittany was wearing that top she liked. It was fairly low cut because Brittany hated things touching her neck and she seemed to figure the lower her top was, then the further it was from her neck and then therefore, the more comfortable it had to be.

"… and it's all in my How to Make Friends Chart and that's how I'm going to make them be my friend so everyone thinks I'm just like you and out of progress." Brittany said triumphantly looking around the room.

Santana followed Brittany's gaze. Her room was sort of plain and boring, she'd always wanted to decorate it but she could never settle on a theme. It did however still have a small alter in the corner from when Brittany and herself had decided they were witches. All they really knew about being witches back then was that you had to light a lot of candles.

Santana's room was still recovering from the shock of Brittany and lit candles being within meters of each other. The number of times she's had to save one from being knocked over in one afternoon of spell casting had surely set a record. They had however, conquered the 'light as a feather, stiff as a board' levitation spell. Brittany had lifted a shocked Santana into the air easily, and as light as she'd been she'd been as tense as could be.

Santana couldn't remember the last time someone had picked her up, maybe it was when she was really really little? Anyway, Brittany couldn't remember the point of the spell beyond making things float, so she'd held Santana in her arms until she was too tired anymore and Santana had made no move to set her straight.

Santana's walls featured some of Brittany's drawings. They were pretty good but they were nearly all of her cat. It wasn't the fat cat with the surly expression that made Santana keep them up, it was the messages beside them. Usually they said something like "Lord Tubbington and I think you're the coolest!" or "Lord T wants you for president." The drawing that was most special to Santana was the picture Brittany drew of Santana as a superhero, front and centre this time with Lord Tubbington as her sidekick. She drew it the day Santana had punched out Finn Hudson of all people for calling Brittany a retard in class when she'd messed up the presidents names.

Santana didn't really want Brittany to draw stuff for anyone else, but at the same time she knew that those pictures, as sweet as they were, weren't going to do much for her social reputation.

Britttany wrapped a blanket around Santana's shoulders and handed her a stuffed duck that she brought her for company in her bag. "I'll see you this afternoon Santana!" she called, running back to her and giving her a squishy in-blanket-hug with the duck wedged between them. She then kissed her lightly on the forehead and skipped off.

Santana eyes were wide. In the moment she felt overcome with wanting to catch Brittany's hand and begging her to stay just a little bit longer.

"I'll bring our friend with me!" Brittany hollered back, and then she was out of earshot.

* * *

Brittany had never intentionally tried to make a friend before. She'd never seen the point. Before she had Santana she hadn't really known friends existed, and after she had Santana she had everything she didn't know she'd always wanted.

She spent the better part of the day deep in thought about the whole thing. It was like going shopping, but for people. Which one would she buy?

At the cafeteria she spotted Lauren Zizes sitting alone. She was a larger girl and even though she was new, she just screamed fierceness and dominance. She was probably the only person that Santana couldn't defeat with her special talent of Going Lima Heights Adjacent that she used very sparingly on offenders because it was just that powerful, and maybe even could kill someone. _This is a very good reason to have Lauren on our team,_ Brittany realized, feeling very smart.  
Lauren seemed an okay person, so far.

Brittany approached Lauren looking her squarely in the eye, locking onto her target just like her How to Make Friends poster instructed. "Hello Lauren," she said brightly.

"Uh uh uh," Lauren held up her hand and shook her head, "You wanna talk to me, that will be three Sour Patch Kids," she instructed seeing the packet bulging out of Brittany's pocket.

"Um. Okay." Brittany agreed and spread them out on the table, studying them.

"What are you doing?" Lauren asked, eying them greedily.

"Just picking out some for you. You see, I name them all. There's Winston and Jodie and Boris and Morris and…"

"I haven't got all day," Lauren interrupted.

"Okay. You take, Morris, Geordie and Martha. As a single mom I never really attached very much to those three," Brittany shrugged, "adoption is funny like that."

Lauren stopped chewing and her eyes became little slits, "I'm adopted. And I ain't nothing to laugh at."

Brittany smiled at her, "Of course not. I hate it when people laugh when something isn't really very funny at all too. We totally have that in common."

Brittany thought back to the list of direction. _Use your manners. Be confident. _

"Lauren Zizes, my name is Brittany S. Pierce and you are going to be my friend, please and thank you," she boomed at Lauren, who actually shrank back a bit.

"I will show you what I'm made of. Here are my good points. I can dance. I remember stuff that other people forget. I have a friend named Santana. I have one hundred and ninety three stuffed animals including little ones on keychains. I can hear stuff from very far away. I take really good care of my cat, Lord Tubbington. I can roll my tongue and cross my eyes. See?" Brittany demonstrated.

"You're weird," Lauren commented dryly, "leave."

"I'm not weird. I'm Brittany."

"Leave. I want to be alone with my fishsticks."

Brittany understood that. Sometimes she wanted to be alone with her Sour Patch Kids.

"Okay, well I'll try again later."

"Don't. Don't try again later." Lauren warned.

Brittany shrugged. She couldn't understand her as she was mumbling with her mouth full so she just grinned and waved as she walked away.

Brittany sat by herself at an empty table while planning her next move. She tried to block out all the sounds of the room so she could think, but she couldn't help but to overhear some commotion at the 'popular' table opposite her. Brittany was only allowed to sit there when Santana was there to insist on it, other days like today she was on her own.

"It's awful, it's horrible! Oh god, Anna, I'm so ugly."

"Oh my god Quinn, no you're not!" chorused Anna and a few girls doing the best to reassure their leader.

"Are you sure? Oh god, I never thought this could ever happen to me."

Brittany curiously inched closer to them to see what the fuss was about.

"It doesn't even look like a pimple, more like… a beauty spot," Anna said, as the other girls nodded eagerly.

"Are you crazy?" Brittany giggled, seeing the offending pimple for the first time, "that this is huge and as purple as a Costa Rican Hummingbird and it looks horrible. I look awesome."

"Brittany," Quinn seethed, then paused trying to decide just how to deal with this girl.

Brittany could tell by how red Quinn was getting that she was angry. _Or maybe hot. But most likely angry_, she thought. She backpedaled quickly, "It's okay," Brittany said, "Purple's one of my favorite colors. If you're embarrassed you could hide yourself under something. That's what I do."

Trying to help, Brittany tipped out the contents of Quinn's duffel bag and put the bag over her head clumsily.

The girls jumped back in shock.

"Brittany's always been weird, but she's now finally cracked," Anna announced horrified as Quinn struggled to get the bag off.

"I have?" Brittany asked, alarmed and began to wrap her hands around her body, looking for where the cracks were.

"Why are you touching yourself like that?" Anna said exasperated with the whole situation, and trying to help a struggling Quinn.

"I'm holding my insides in so they don't fall out of the cracks."

"What is going on?" Mr Bellingham said as he quickly strode into the cafeteria and looked nervously at Brittany. Most teachers always looked at her like that for some reason.

Brittany shrunk back. When a teacher approached her like this it was almost never good. She started to back away closer to the vending machines, her breath coming out in short gasps, her body breaking out into a sticky cold sweat. She pretended she was Lord Tubbington and curled her fingers into protective claws, hissing and arching her back as if to appear almost as large as Lord T himself and twice as threatening. Lord Tubbington jumped on top of high places when he got mad, Brittany thought, edging herself even closer to the vending machine as the top of it was definitely a viable option for her right now. Lord Tubbington also peed on things when he was really angry, Brittany hoped it wasn't going to come to that.

Mr Bellingham stared at her, "What's happened here?"

Enraged, and eager to get Brittany in trouble, Quinn began a dramatic tale of how Brittany had taken away her dignity.

"Is this true Brittany?"

"I was just trying to help."

"Are you being smart?"

"Yes sir!" Brittany beamed. She was glad Mr Bellingham understood that she had just been doing the smart thing.

Mr Bellingham was not amused, "Alright Brittany, I can see we're not going to get anywhere here so I'm going to have to give you an after school detention okay? Report to my office after the last bell."

"You too Lauren, I haven't forgotten that you need to be punished for that graffiti you did in the girl's toilets" he reminded the girl at the other table who was still intent on eating a large plate of fishsticks.

* * *

Brittany had spent the whole detention unsuccessfully trying to win Lauren over. She'd used every technique on the poster charts and Lauren had still sat with her back to her the whole time. Nothing in those posters had ever worked on Quinn either.

Usually, Brittany would have gone straight to Santana's but today she went home first and tore up the How to Make Friends poster, and then after a beat, tore up all the posters of handwritten rules that her mother had made.

_Rules to making friends._

_1. Be friendly and use your manners. _

_2. Be confident._

_3. Be helpful. _

_4. Tell them about yourself and let them get to know you. _

…

Brittany had been friendly. She'd even given Lauren some of her sour patch kids and told her all about herself and she'd been super smart and helpful to Quinn.

From now on, Brittany was going to do things her own way.

* * *

By the time Brittany got to Santana's house it was getting dark. Santana had missed her, and she had wondered if Brittany had been so successful in her friend making that she'd forgotten about Santana. The thought made her chest ache. She decided that she'd come back to school tomorrow whether she felt better or not. She didn't want to be forgotten.

Brittany came straight into her room and buried her head under Santana's blanket. It smelled so distinctly of Santana and that fruity kind of scent that was her shampoo.

Santana patted her head under the sheets. "Hey Britt Britt, what happened?" she cooed.

Brittany sat up, but kept her face hidden by the sheets. "I failed my mission," she said. Her voice was muffled, but because they were so close it was still audible.

"Oh. That's okay!" Santana said brightly. _Brittany's still just mine._

"Santana, we really are friends right?"

"Of course we are Britt Britt, I thought you were done being confused about that one."

Brittany remembered when she had looked it up in the dictionary.

_Friend: A person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard._

She'd quoted that back to Santana and asked if that's what Santana felt towards her once.

_Santana put her hands up in a gesture of putting boundaries between them, _"_Attachment and feelings and… god damn it Britt, affection? They're such strong, strong words you know. Friends don't really need those things." _

"_But what ARE they," Brittany asked. _

"_You see what I mean? You don't even know what they are, so how important could they be? How could you possibly even have them, right?"_

"_Right." Brittany muttered sadly. The dictionary was usually right and she felt disillusioned. "But Santana, what makes US friends then?"_

_Santana shook her head and sighed. "You need me… and I like that you need me. We don't need anything else. Nothing else is important."_

Brittany didn't want to upset Santana again today so she changed tactics and told her another thing that was on her mind. "I talked to a whole bunch of people today and I didn't want any of them to be my friends. I didn't even want them to be my sort of friends. I don't even like them at all and I don't think you like them very much either. Why do you want them?"

"I don't know. I just need them somehow. I'm not like you Brittany, I just… it's never going to work with just one person. One person just isn't enough. I don't even know how people get married to just one person. I'm never going to do that. I want to be free. Being tied to one thing makes me feel like I'm caged. I wish everybody belonged to me, especially you, but I never want to ever belong to anybody."

* * *

"I've only done five impossible things this week," Brittany moaned as Santana zipped her up into her dress. Instead of following rules on posters, Brittany had decided that achieving impossible things was the only way to go.

"Mmmm," Santana hummed distractedly trying not to look too much while she was dressing up Brittany. It was getting harder to be around her lately, Brittany kept making Santana have an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach. She wasn't sure exactly what it was, but it made her feel tight and tense and it also made her act funny, like it made her leave her hands on Brittany's body just a little bit too long like she was doing now. Brittany had a habit of throwing her clothes off very suddenly because something was too itchy or too tight. She'd then crawl all over Santana if she was in the way looking for the more comfortable t-shirt or whatever it was that she wanted. Santana wouldn't admit it to anyone, but she got in the way on purpose sometimes. She knew this had to stop. Obviously her body was confused and it needed to be set on the right path.

It was the night of the Dalton dance and Santana was going to kiss at least one boy tonight. Part of Santana really wanted to leave Brittany at home so she could do what she had to do without having to worry about her. But the rest of her couldn't stand the thought of going without her. She directed her attention back to Brittany.

"No really. I need to do two more impossible things before we can go. That will make five and five is how many I had to do. It's all Lord Tubbington's fault. I've been trying to teach him Spanish ever since our teacher said it would be impossible, and he's just not interested. He won't even listen to all those tapes I got him," she whined.

"He still knows more Spanish than you, Britt, in spite of how hard I try to teach you the language." _Why does it ache so much to look at her sometimes? Santana thought, pondering what seemed one of life's unanswerable questions._

"That's true," Brittany said proudly, "when I brought him out some fondue the other day I know he was totally thinking 'me gusta.' So can I count three and a half?"

"Didn't I see you get that nose, Berry, to shut up for like an hour the other day when you went all moon eyed and prophetic and said that you saw a Razzie award in Barbra's future?" Santana gigged a bit, it really had been hilarious.

"You didn't see it too?"

"Well… no," Santana spun Brittany around in her chair and began applying makeup, trying to be quick because she knew Brittany hated it. She knew she had to keep talking to distract her from the feel of the makeup. "Her face was priceless. I heard her making some calls later about insuring her own future… what did she say…. 'if the brightest star can fall so far, where does that leave me?' It was poetic and pathetic all at once. _Hmm…poetic and pathetic. I think I'll edit that a little to suit my purpose and write that on her myspace page_, Santana thought and multitasked, flicking open her laptop and expertly hitting a few buttons getting into her 'losers I like to tease' folder in her favorites list as she did the finishing touches on Brittany's eye makeup.

Brittany looked troubled, "I didn't mean to make her sad. I just saw…"

"No matter, it was a brilliant move Britt, and Quinn saw it and I'm pretty sure she was impressed. Impressing Quinn is like another impossible thing," Santana assured her.

"That's true," Brittany nodded.

"So that's two points then. You're at five and a half," Santana held up the mirror to her, "and you look totally hot right now, so lets get going okay?"

"No… it's actually really really cold, San. These dresses are so tiny and your window doesn't close all the way," Brittany shivered.

Santana paused, her face wrinkled with concern, "I'll get you a jacket."

Brittany always seemed so sensitive to the temperatures. She could be shivering violently on a cool day and about to pass out on a mildly hot one. Santana found Brittany a jacket that matched well enough. Santana always made allowances for Brittany. Things with her weren't always perfect and Quinn wouldn't be pleased that they weren't going to be completely identical, but making sure Brittany was okay was more important. Santana hoped she never lost sight of that.

"San? When we come home tonight can we watch the end of Lord of the Rings?"

"Sure we can, Britt Britt."

Lord of the Rings was an insanely long and boring movie in Santana's opinon, but Brittany hadn't seen it and had wanted to watch it this afternoon. All the action scenes hadn't even taken Santana's mind off the fact that she was going to get to first base for the first time tonight with whichever Dalton boy or boys took her fancy.

Quinn had already been kissed heaps of times and she had said Santana was dragging her down because she couldn't possibly gossip with somebody who was so clueless about it. Santana just _had_ to beat out that Anna girl who was Quinn's primary gossip partner right now. Quinn had said that if she wanted to talk to someone who was completely clueless she would just talk to Brittany. As they watched the movie they had snuggled on the couch together with Santana pressed up against Brittany's side while they watched the first hour before they had to get ready.  
Santana had thought the girl… Galadriel or something like that was really pretty. _Maybe because she looked a little like Brittany_? She mentally berated herself for thinking about Brittany again. After tonight she would be initiated into the world of guys like Quinn had said and she would be fixed.

* * *

According to Santana, Brittany had spent the whole car ride to the dance talking about 'elves and shit.' She always did this thing where she could watch a movie and get too involved with it and almost become one of the characters in real life. Santana would never forget the time they had watched 'I Know What You Did Last Summer' together.  
It was Brittany's first scary movie and she spent weeks afterward looking for evil fishermen, dropping into a fighting stance at the slightest noise and not sleeping in fear of her hair being cut off. Santana was just glad Brittany always seemed to take on the personality of the heroine, she didn't know how well she would have took 'SOON' being written threateningly in lipstick on her mirror had Brittany identified with the villain.

They met up with Quinn outside and walked into the dance in perfect time and rhythm with each other.

Brittany, the one with the most boobs immediately got the most stares from the boys.

Quinn (who had stuffed her bra with tissues to accentuate the small amount she already had) was annoyed and pushed Brittany behind her as they began to socialize. This whole 'socializing with boys' thing was a bold move. Going over to the 'boys side' just wasn't something anyone did at these events. But Quinn Fabray wasn't just anyone, she was going to set a new trend and make sure everyone saw it.

Would you care to dance? Quinn asked airily to the tallest yet least gangly, least pimply and least prepubescent looking boy there. When he accepted, Quinn nodded to Santana indicating that she could have the next pick. Santana turned to Brittany and swallowed hard. Brittany had found a bunch of helium balloons and was happily drawing faces on them with a sharpie.

"Britts, I'm going to go dance with one of the boys. Will you be okay here?" she asked worriedly.

"Yeah," Brittany said adding whiskers to one balloon and handing it to Santana, "take Lord T with you. It's not safe to go alone."

"I'll be fine," Santana snapped, before she realized that Brittany had no idea how nervous she was and wasn't giving her the balloon because of that. She was just off in her own little world again. Brittany hadn't been to a dance before either and it was obviously very intimidating for her to the point where she had lapsed into a fantasy to become more comfortable.

* * *

_Through Brittany's eyes_:

There were Orcs everywhere. Everywhere. Brittany had lost sight of her Lady Princess, Santana, and the Vain Elf Prince, Quinn. There was one Friendly Hobbit, a girl standing by the ale… or was it mead?

Brittany walked up to her, "Hi Friendly Hobbit, I'm not supposed to talk to you because Santana and Quinn said not to but I don't see them anywhere and I like you so I wanted to say I'm sorry for what I said about the fair Barbra."

"It is okay, Brittany," the Hobbit said stiffly clearly not amused to have her species revealed in public like that in front of all the Orcs. "You know, I can't understand anything you girls write on my myspace, anymore. Oh and before you deny it, don't. I know about your group and your personal vendettas against me," she added.

"What do you mean? I write all my comments in hobbit language. I speak hobbit. It's Quinn and Santana that use the confusing words. Like 'poetic and pathetic' whatever that means."

"Yes, some comments are absolute blasphemy, but at least in correct understandable English. Lately, I've just been getting a whole lot of gibberish. I assumed that Quinn was writing them after knocking back a few and whilst I don't approve of underage teen drinking, nonsense is a lot better than the defamation she usually writes."

"No," Brittany repeated, "It's not Quinn and mead. It's just me."

Brittany thought it was so sad. Rachel must be the last Hobbit on earth and therefore have no one to practice her language with to the point where it had been completely forgotten. Brittany would make sure Lord Tubbington learned Spanish for sure now so Santana would always have someone to talk to. "Look, I'll show you how to read Hobbit code," she said getting out her sharpie and writing the code all over another one of the balloons.

After a short while, Rachel had gotten it and Brittany was satisfied.

"Now Brittany, if I've just gone and learned this code only so I can read more petty insults I'm going to be really disappointed," Rachel told her softly.

"It's not mean stuff. Unless Lord Tubbington posted some. He knows the code too and could pose as me if he really wanted to. Oh, and Hobbit, I know you've got the one ring and that's how you sing so good in music class, but the others get kind of mad because you're so powerful so maybe you could let other people borrow the ring once in a while."

Rachel was starting to get a headache with all this Brittany talk, "Okay, she said slowly, I'll try to do that Britt. It was nice talking to you."

Rachel wasn't lying, it kind of was nice to have someone actually talk to her at one of these dances, but if only Brittany would stop calling her Hobbit.

Fifteen minutes later, the Orcs were starting to swarm. They were buzzing around excitedly like something big was happening. Brittany was afraid they were planning their attack and she looked around for her Lady or even for the Vain Elf to protect her. They weren't anywhere to be seen.

An Orc was talking to her, following her and blocking her way as she tried to leave. She heard him laughing and asking her if she was as 'easy' as her 'other cheergirl friends' but she didn't understand that kind of Orcspeak. He called his friend out and pretty soon there was a small army closing in on her, touching her arms, pulling at the hem of her shirt. Brittany screamed and thrashed against them viciously. Why did they have to go to an Orc Social and why did Santana want to be here? Orcs were savage and unkind, not like her Lady at all. She kneed one in its Orblers and it staggered back as the others taunted her telling her she was a 'crazy bitch'. If only she had a translator. Suddenly they backed off in fear of more bruised Orblers and Brittany began to edge herself slowly into one of the back rooms.

As she pulled herself inside and closed the door behind her, she saw something that couldn't possibly be real. Quinn and Santana were both lying beneath the Orcs, with their dresses pulled down to reveal their lack of breasts and their skirts pulled up. Three Orcs were touching them all over with their vile green skin.

One of the Orcs saw her first, "Oh, so our sixth member of this party has finally arrived. Here's your girl Josh."

"Brittany!" her Lady said with her voice taking on a hint of panic, "Go, you shouldn't be here."

The Vain Elf said, "Oh come on, Santana. If she wants to be a part of this group she has to start acting like it."

Brittany stood stunned, staring at the scene. Behind her she could hear the Friendly Hobbit calling her.

"I'm in here," she shouted back, throwing open the door and shouting for the Hobbit, "You need to use the ring… you need to use it now!"

She ran up to the Orc straddling her Lady and thumped him on the head as hard as she could.

* * *

"Brittany… Brittany?"

"Mom?"

"Brittany. Snap out of it. I'm trying to ask you a question," said Susan.

Brittany stared at her mom. As Susan was speaking she was gesturing wildly to her and to a teacher standing with her. Her hands were moving up and down and her head was jerking out in sudden movements. That body language could mean a lot of things. Brittany was smart enough to know that sometimes it meant that the person doing it really wanted to get your attention. But then again, sometimes it also meant the chicken dance.

Brittany looked around. The first thing she saw was Santana, now fully dressed but with her hair all mussed up and her clothes not sitting right, kind of like how she would wake up in the mornings after thrashing around all night in her sleep when they were having sleepovers. Santana's eyes were wide and terrified, and Quinn's face was ashen. There were a lot of adults in the room now, and the boys were all gone. Quinn and Brittany were being sternly questioned by some other adults Brittany recognized as teachers from Dalton.

Brittany caught Santana's eye for a second and Santana tried to smile bravely to tell her it was alright, but she couldn't even fake it. A second later she remembered that smiling at her wouldn't do much good, Brittany might not even notice. What she needed was to talk to her, explain what had happened and make sure she was okay.

"Brittany," her mother said, "you hit that boy really hard, you're lucky he's okay and not going to press charges. Why did you do it?"

"He was attacking Santana, mom."

"I don't think he was attacking Santana, Brittany," her mother said stiffly, "surely you know that? I don't want you hanging out with her anymore. She's become a bad influence on you. Mr Bellingham found three boys and three girls. It's not hard to work out what they were all doing, or what you all had planned to do. In the same room, together." Susan looked disgusted, "I didn't raise my own daughter to act like she was going to a house of prostitution, not a kids dance. I'm just glad that Rachel found you and stopped you before you could do anything they had already done. She told me everything. Unfortunately she wasn't there in time to stop Santana and Quinn before they got up to a fair bit of nonsense. I've called their parents and they'll be here soon to pick them up as well. Say goodbye to them now because you won't be seeing Santana outside of school anymore Brittany. Or Quinn. And consider yourself grounded for a whole month."

Brittany just stared at her with her mouth open, then suddenly it clicked as to what her mother had said, "You mean I can't be with Santana anymore?"

"That's exactly what I mean."

"No!" Brittany's voice rose to a higher pitch and Santana noticed immediately and began to tap her feet anxiously wanting the teachers to stop talking to her so she could comfort her, "Santana's my best friend!" Brittany shouted, "You can't keep us apart!"

"What?" Santana exhaled in shock, ignoring Mr Bellingham and Mrs Cook she now rose and made her way to Brittany and looked Susan in the eye.

"What do you mean? You mean I can't see her?"

"No," Mrs Pierce stared down Santana, "go out to the car, Brittany."

Brittany didn't move.

"I said go NOW!" Susan said and shoved her out the door.

Brittany's eyes widened in fear and she did what she was told, numbly running from the room.

"But…Mrs Pierce I made a mistake, I know I let the boys go too far and I'm sorry Brittany saw but it won't happen again," Santana pleaded.

"I might have forgiven that eventually, but I can't forget what I was told about what you and Quinn did… together. It's disgusting what you girls do to get attention from the boys. The boys explained everything to the teacher here, and he told me." Susan's disgust was plain.

Santana's throat ran dry and she felt suddenly lightheaded. She put her hand out to steady herself against the wall. "Me… and Quinn?"

"Yes," Mrs Pierce practically growled thinking of a quote that applied, "_He that denies his sin shall not prosper_. I can't even say the words, but you are a disgrace Santana, and Quinn is too. I don't want gay people around my daughter. This is the last time you will see her, and that is final."

"I'm not gay," Santana whispered.

"Well, I don't want a slut around my daughter either."

With that, Mrs Pierce turned away from her and strode out to her car, leaving Santana staring after her sobbing with tears running down her cheeks. Santana watched the car start up ready to drive away, and on Brittany's side she could see that Brittany had fogged the glass up. She could see the remnants of an old game of Tic Tac Toe there that they had played on the glass on the way to the dance, and beside it was a new drawing, a heart with an 'S' inside. Brittany's eyes peered around the misted up glass and Santana brushed away some tears, and as they locked eyes, Brittany traced the heart with her finger and Santana traced one in the air. It was the closest they had come yet to saying 'I love you'.

* * *

**Three things:**

**1. This is not a Quinntana story at all. "Quinn" is not even gay and wasn't into experimentation for very long at all. Quinntana haters can breathe now. :) **

**2. I've forgiven a lot of things, but I've never forgiven my mother for how she treated "Santana". **

**3. She really did treasure the superhero drawing I made of her. **

**Next up: Brittany and Santana start High School! (but there's still a chapter or two until I reach Season 1 timeline) **

**And as always, leave me a review so I know what you all think of this! :) **


	7. Run Away With Me

**I wish I could have told "Brittany" that one day in the year 2012, people from all over the world would sympathize with, and understand her. I don't even know what to say about some of the things that have been said. It means a lot and definitely heals some old wounds. Thanks so much everyone :)**

**xoxo- Your reviews always spark off so much thought, I also didn't even think to include how "Santana" responded to "Mrs Pierce's" Brittana ban, which would have been a huge mistake on my part because in spite of it being disobeyed as often as possible, it was still very hard for her. I've written some of your comments on sticky notes because they remind me of things I have to address later as well. :)**

**KitKat- 50 points to you! I read The Glass Menagerie some time just before I started this, after hearing "Katie" complain about having to read it for school (which is a fair indication that I'd like it myself). I loved it and realized "Brittany" is much like Laura, but instead has Asperger's not a club foot and a menagerie of plush animals instead of glass ones (with the unicorn being her favorite, and also there's the dependence on not Amanda, but "Santana." It's pretty cool, because you've noticed the only thing I'm really good at which is drawing parallels between two separate things which is an autism related talent. I use it heavily writing this story linking the Glee world to mine. Anyway, thanks for reading and inspiring me to write more. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 7 – Run Away With Me.**

**Brittany S. Pierce, Present **

Dear Santana,

You passed me a note at the lockers with averted eyes when we were all of thirteen. You'd typed it the night before, and you'd had it in your pocket all day obviously waiting to get up the courage to give it to me. You wouldn't look at me afterwards and you didn't want to talk about it.

"_Don't you know, Brittany, that the very day you walked into my life was the day my life really began to shine? You didn't notice me at first but from the second I saw you I knew it was meant to be. Don't ever doubt that you're my Britt Britt, the one I want forever, right until the very end." _

I'm summarized it a little, but that's what you said. How did I seem to you? Did I really convey how I felt back?

Isn't it crazy now that back then I felt connected to you by your words, yet I couldn't see that you'd written them because you felt connected to me?

You were struggling, Santana, some days you'd write me notes like that as if I was your whole world and other days you would remind me of how much more you needed that I could not provide you. Now that I'm older I can see your struggle between two paths, one, giving in to your own feelings and opening yourself up even though you knew you could get hurt. When you were there, you surrendered to our forbidden love. The second option wasn't the unicorn one, Santana. The second path wasn't a path at all, it was a black hole - where you gave up and closed yourself off to feelings. You were self aware of it, I know, because later on, we began to refer to the Santana who walked that black path as 'Snix,' because honey, after a while I didn't recognize you when you were like that and I'm not sure you recognized yourself either. You weren't 'my Santana' anymore.

You kept straddling both paths as much as I tried to pull you back to me, but it wasn't your fault, you know? You were hurting so much and you didn't love you like I loved you and it made you make some bad choices. I forgive you for that, Santana. I forgive you for everything. I'm just trying to understand.

Love,

Brittany

* * *

**Brittany S. Pierce, age 13-14.**

Brittany never finished The Lord of the Rings. She packed the disk up then and there as soon as she got home. She had seen more than enough Orcs for one night.

Her mother had ignored her the entire car ride home and Brittany was pretty sure she was in disgrace. She was certain of it when her mother pointed up the stairs to her room and said 'you are in disgrace' and that Brittany wasn't to come out for at least a week, except of course to eat and use the bathroom.

Mrs Pierce was very firm, as if she sensed that Brittany might challenge her. Brittany had been very vocal about the fact that she found being grounded for saving Santana tonight totally unfair.  
It was as unfair as it had been when she was eight and had been grounded for carrying out her master plan of getting to know Lord Tubbington better. She had decided to run away with the fat cat who was then, a fat kitten. She'd declared herself as the Lord's lady and for all of three hours they had roamed the streets as feral cats with Brittany doing as Lord Tubbington did.

_Being grounded that time was totally unfair_, Brittany grumbled to herself._ And being grounded this time was even worse._

In the end, running away had caused more repercussions to her make up and hair care supplies than to anything else. Lord Tubbington had decided that Brittany was an honorary cat and that he could share all of Brittany's belongings. He had no shame in doing so. Santana often asked why Brittany had citrus-flavored-everything and Brittany would just shrug, but the real reason was because that was the one scent that Lord T disliked. If Brittany didn't buy citrus scented shampoo, any shampoo she bought would be all used up on Lord T's furry coat before she could use any herself.

She wondered if the dance's consequences could be worse than seeing a cat in lipstick.

Now that she was on house arrest once again, she knew that the 'Britt and Tubs club' would once again be in each other's pockets and Brittany feared that by the end of it, the cat might forget about personal space entirely to the point that he might be convinced that Brittany wouldn't mind him reading her diary. Nothing could be hidden from that savvy cat, he had learned too much from observing Brittany and Santana's spy detective missions. How was she ever supposed to go to school again if she couldn't trust that her own cat wasn't reading her diary? It was going to bother her forever now.

Brittany threw herself on her bed and stared agitatedly into space until she felt like she could get up and walk at the same time as breathing again. She and Santana had planned to have a sleepover tonight, and now they couldn't and she never could deal very well when plans were changed. She wasn't too worried about the fact her mother said she wouldn't be seeing Santana again. Now that Brittany had torn up her behavior charts she made her own rules and she planned to only make ones in their place that were logical. If she had three points of logic for the creation of every rule then it seemed pretty solid. Three was a good number.

She was certain that the reason her mother was keeping her away from Santana was really because she had been a bad friend to Santana because she didn't save her from the Orcs. So, she should get a chance to make up for that, right? All she had to do was keep protecting Santana until she had made up for it and make sure her mom saw and then they could go back to having sleepovers again. If her mom couldn't see that she was being a good friend again even then, then her mom's rule wasn't logical and Brittany's rules were better anyway. Maybe her mum was having an adolt moment in the first place when she made it, or was it spelled, adult?

She heard her phone buzz and she leapt at it, hoping that it was a message from Santana. It was.

_**(S) I'm sorry Britts, I've ruined everything. S**_

_**(B) Don't worry San, I've got a plan. Hey, that rhymes. I'm the one who should be sorry, I should have protected you from them. B**_

_**(S) Who, your mom? The teachers?**_

_**(B) No… the Orcs that were trying to steal your clothes. **_

_**(S) Britts, that's not what happened. I wanted them to steal my clothes. I was having fun, I didn't want it to end up the way it did with your Mom but I really liked those guys. This is one of those things that you aren't able to understand. **_

Santana sent her text, sighed, and leaned back against her headboard on her bed. She had told Brittany she liked being with those boys, and that was almost half true. She had hated them touching her, but she liked touching them. She had liked feeling needed for something.

The boys had grabbed at her, their hands course, their movements rough. Their hands were nothing like Brittany's smooth, gentle long fingers. She didn't exactly have an aversion to touch like Brittany. She knew Brittany would panic if someone she didn't know touched her hand even to guide her somewhere, like the physical sensation of it truly hurt her.

It wasn't like that, but still, something was gnawing away at Santana. This kind of touch was different and maybe it should mean something. It wasn't a touch of the hand, they were touching her in much more private places and it felt like a betrayal of some kind. _Who have I betrayed_? Santana wondered. The most important person in the world to her was Brittany and maybe she felt like it was Brittany she had betrayed because this could maybe be the one thing Santana ever did that Brittany wouldn't approve of.  
Santana couldn't bring herself to actually consider that maybe she had betrayed her own self. She figured that maybe if she blocked everything out in her head then maybe she could let them do it again. If she could just numb herself to everything, it would make everything so much easier.

Their hands on her might have felt wrong, but when she touched other people it wasn't so bad. It was like she stayed clean and everything happened without the same consequences. Santana thought of it almost like a job with a different kind of pay. She got to say when and how, and it felt good to touch them because she knew that while she did it she had their full attention and they were thinking about her. Touching boys made Santana matter. It was like having power, and power was what Santana needed most of all. She didn't have nearly enough of it, if she had, she would be able to have stopped her Papi from abandoning her and she'd have been able to convince Brittany's mom that Santana hadn't done anything wrong tonight with Quinn and would have never have seen that disgusted look on her face.

Her own mother hadn't even bothered to listen to what Santana had allegedly done. When she had arrived, Maria had just shoved her in the car and screamed at her for making her leave her nightshift for this and didn't that 'stupid mother of her little friend' know the proper meaning of emergency? Santana was clearly not dying so why was she called?

Santana knew her mother wouldn't care. She never did. While part of her was glad of it because that meant she got away with tonight, part of her was upset that she wasn't in trouble. Although Susan had overreacted and said some hurtful things, she wished her mom would freak out just a little bit and be worried about her. Mostly, she wished that she could talk to her mother about the feelings she was having.

Santana would hardly admit it herself, but kissing Quinn had been better than any of it. Neither of them had been planning to do it, but the boys had made some typical-teen-boy comment about how hot it would be to see two cheerleaders kiss. They'd meant it as a joke, but Quinn had turned to Santana and smiled wickedly, telling her that she always listened to public opinion because she planned to become a politician one day if she couldn't be a famous model.

Quinn had then leaned over and kissed Santana in front of everyone, including the other Dalton boys who had come by to have a look. A second later, it was over and Quinn turned her head to face the others and all Santana had a view of was a head full of blonde hair. In that moment, Santana pretended it was Brittany she had kissed which made the whole thing seem less confusing and oddly right. Quinn had seemed completely unaffected, laughing with the boys afterwards and before Santana knew it she was already straddling one again and Santana was being nudged by another. Was kissing girls okay if Quinn did it, or was it only okay if it was for the entertainment of the boys that were watching? Her thoughts trailed off when her phone buzzed and Brittany's name flashed up again.

_**(B) You know San, You're a brown cat with brown eyes, but I'm like a white cat with blue eyes because lots of them are born deaf and that's kind of like me because I'm those colors too and I can't hear what people are really saying to me sometimes. **_

It was a bit random, but Santana went with it.

_**(S) I know it's not that you're not listening Britt, it's just that sometimes you can't hear the message of what I'm telling you. **_

_**(B) Do you speak Hobbit San? We could translate it to that. **_

_**(S) No Britts, but I hope you're practicing your Spanish. **_

Santana tried to bring the conversation back under control and she sent her another text.

_**(S) Look Britts, we're gonna find a way to get around your mom okay? I'm not going anywhere okay? So don't worry. -S**_

_**(B) I'm not worried. I'm gonna protect you. And if I can't will you run away with me? **_

Santana's heart started pounding for no apparent reason known to her and that weird feeling of things in this one moment feeling right took over her again. She typed out a response quickly.

_**(S) Anytime. **_

Brittany didn't reply for a while, and Santana lay down and tried to sleep when suddenly her phone lit up in the darkness.

_**(B) Is the message that you mean that you really like getting your clothes stolen by boys? **_

_**(S) Yeah. That's right Britts.**_

_**(B) Are all boys like raccoons? They like stealing stuff? **_

_**(S) I'm pretty sure most of them are. And girls can also be like raccoons too if they want to. **_

_**(B) I'll never be a raccoon, I'd rather be a cat like Lord T because he likes sharing stuff rather than stealing stuff. Will you explain all this to me someday? **_

At the first part of Brittany's message, Santana's heart sank. Brittany probably thought Santana was really gross for wanting this and it kind of hurt that Brittany didn't want it herself. Then she read the second half and wondered if Brittany's random logic was actually the smartest thing she'd heard all week. Maybe it should be about sharing, not using. She shrugged that thought off because it made her uncomfortable for some reason.

_**(S) Of course I will Britts, But I'm gonna go to sleep now. Wish I was there. Night. **_

_**(B) Night San. Wish you were here too. **_

* * *

In spite of being grounded, Susan allowed Brittany a visit to the library because any sort of academic interest on Brittany's part had to be encouraged.

There were twenty-three books on the shelves about raccoons. Brittany checked each and every one of them out and flipped through them all studying habitat, population numbers and diet. Finally she found what she was looking for under 'social behaviors' She soon found what Santana was getting at. The Orcs had been engaging in 'mating' behavior just like these raccoons. Whilst she was interested to note that this 'mating' season peaked from January through late March, it seemed like raccoon couples didn't really like each other. They weren't even friends.

Santana had said that it was important for friends to need each other and like that they needed each other. Brittany nodded her head at this even though nobody else was around and she didn't have to show anybody she understood. She had certainly witnessed how rough those Orcs had been, it wasn't any wonder they had been like that if they weren't even friends while they were trying to 'mate.' Apparently, the female raccoon only tolerated, rather than needed, the presence of the male raccoon during actual 'mating' and then kicked him out afterwards until next year because he was too aggressive, especially to the little raccoons.  
Maybe Santana only wanted to hang around boys-who-were-like-raccoons at annual Dalton dances (was that another word for mating?) and she'd still need Brittany for the rest of the time?

_Why did Santana want to be a raccoon anyway?_ Brittany thought and checked out a few more books on cats while she was there, just for fun.

Later on that day as she was lying on her bed reading her favorite section in 'The Encyclopedia of Cats' which listed the top one hundred most common cat diseases, a page Brittany knew word for word, she suddenly had an idea. She flipped to the previously-unexplored-by-her 'cat social behaviors section and saw that the cats in the books liked sharing as much as Lord Tubbington did. She ran her fingers up and down the pages as she studied them.

As it turned out, when cats 'mate', they are sweet and affectionate and rub up against their partners. They also talk to each other and do cute stuff like putting their tails in the air. When Brittany 'mated' she was going to be like a cat. Maybe Brittany, Santana, and Lord Tubbington really should all run away together, so Lord Tubbington could teach Santana how to live as a cat just like he taught Brittany. When she asked him what he thought about that, Lord Tubbington started purring which made him a little bit hard to understand, but Brittany could still tell he was into the idea.

* * *

Susan kept her word. Brittany begged to see Santana most days over the break before High School started but Susan was stubborn. Over the holidays, Brittany's activities were easier to monitor and Susan had plenty of time to do so. To her dismay, Brittany was kept at home with her little sister, and when she wasn't there she was mostly at dance class.

Katie wasn't too pleased to have Brittany around her so much, especially since every sentence Brittany began started with "Santana." Katie was tired of hearing about someone she hardly hated how at the dinner table, all Brittany could find to talk about was speculation about what Santana had done today, including all the little details such as her favorite flavor of ice cream (Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough). Last night all Brittany could find as a topic of conversation was that Santana was probably enjoying the figure skating competition on TV right now. Katie didn't care, and she thought Brittany's obsession with this girl was weird, but with Brittany, what else was new?

Brittany had messaged Santana every time _anything_ happened in the first couple of weeks and in the beginning Santana had responded enthusiastically to her commentary about what was going on at the duck pond or Brittany's cooking adventures, but now Santana's messages had almost stopped coming. When they did come, they were distant and short.

Brittany still left her phone by her bed at night, keeping it close to her head so it would wake her up if Santana messaged her. She didn't message her goodnight anymore, but Brittany still waited and hoped. She never switched it to silent, just in case Santana wanted to reach her.

_Just in case. _

* * *

The ban had affected Santana more than it affected Brittany. When they were caught calling each other, Santana could hear Susan hollering at Brittany down the phone even though Brittany was clearly making an effort to muffle the speaker.

Brittany never cried, the fact that she couldn't understand what she was doing wrong stopped her from really feeling anything about Susan screaming at her. Brittany was doing the right thing by her logic and the rest was just loud noises she could avoid by putting her hands over her ears. The main issue was that she usually got cut off again right in the middle of telling Santana something really important, like how the ducks in the nearby duck pond had all had babies.

Santana cried though. From the moment Susan ripped the cell phone from Brittany's hands and until Susan figured out how to hang up, and then sometimes even longer after that, Santana cried.

She wasn't sure exactly why she cried. It wasn't easy for her to witness anyone shouting at Brittany, and the powerless feeling that came with it when she couldn't be there with her wasn't easy to deal with either.  
She got angry and wanted to knock Susan out sometimes, and that scared her a bit too because it was Brittany's mom. Sometimes Santana was afraid that all the fighting was really hurting Brittany deep down and she hadn't made enough meaning of the situation to properly realize it yet. The 'Santana issue' was the only thing Brittany and her mom fought about to this extent.

Santana wouldn't admit it, but what hurt the most was when 'she's not good for you' came echoing down the line. Santana never really had much of a good opinion of herself, the only times she felt like she was a good person was when she was helping Brittany.

And now she was being told she wasn't even very good at that?

She never felt as comforted as she should when Brittany howled back at her mother, telling her 'Santana is the best thing that's ever happened to me!' Santana had always known Brittany was kind of unreliable at knowing what was good for her, which made her afraid Brittany would find out one day it was all true and that maybe her mother was actually right.

Santana pulled away and put some distance between them because she couldn't take it anymore. She stopped answering, but the calls never stopped coming, although they did lack the same frequency as before.

* * *

Brittany got the chicken pox right at the end of their break, and it was so bad that she missed the first few weeks of high school. She figured that all the chickens of Lima that had placed a pox on her must have been pretty pissed off to curse her so bad, because her skin was bumpy and red and sore and she was miserable.

She looked up chicken voodoo curses on the internet and found that not a whole lot of chickens were online posting about their craft because she couldn't find an antidote anywhere. She lamented the fact that she'd pissed off at least one chicken (maybe several) for days as she tried not to scratch at her bumps and to make pictures out of them instead, connecting them like dot to dot pictures. More and more of them kept appearing. Brittany's pictures went from looking like cats and funny faces to just looking like boring asterisks because there were too many of them to draw around now.

She spent the rest of her time watching the Sweet Valley High TV series and then reading the entire collection of Sweet Valley High books. They taught her a lot about people. Many of the books had people feeling something called jealousy and after a while, Brittany realized that was why the chickens had made her sick. They were jealous of all her time spent with the ducks.

She knew it was a chicken curse, not a cock curse because over in Sweet Valley, the girls seemed to get more jealous than the boys which is why Brittany's skin hurt so much. If a boy rooster had done it, it wouldn't be hurting so bad.

It was an easy fix, Brittany just had to promise the chicken gods to visit more chicken farms and less duck ponds. Why had that taken her so long to figure out? She felt really stupid. Sure enough, Brittany's pox began to heal much faster and before she knew it, she was slowly getting ready for school, wishing that Santana had come over to help her because she had so many new classes to prepare for and figuring out what she needed was going to take her all night and maybe even til the next morning. Brittany wasn't sure why Santana wasn't talking to her much anymore, she wondered what she had done wrong. She was sorry that she had pissed off a chicken and had been cursed, but she was far more worried about what she had done to upset Santana. She wondered if she'd ever really know what she'd done.

* * *

Brittany walked down the hall at her first day at McKinley High, tired and rubbing her eyes from being up all night trying to figure out what she would have to bring to school. She was equally exhausted from spending the whole morning being hopelessly lost hunting for classes by herself. She had Spanish next. She wished Lord Tubbington could take the class for her, he was really getting pretty good at the language. Brittany was still working on figuring out English, at least that's what all her teachers had told her in her report cards.

She tried to stick close to the lockers to move around and search for her next class, but she kept getting swept up in the pack of students milling around and she was afraid that they would stampede all over her like the wildebeests had done to Mufasa in the Lion King.  
She didn't want to be trampled, so she flattened herself closer to the lockers, ready to climb up on them and hang on to the top if things got too bad. Or maybe just until the crowd thinned out a bit.

She finally spotted Santana at her new locker, adjusting some photo of a male model that she'd pinned to the inside.

Brittany brightened up instantly and ran up to her.

She was so excited to see her that she leapt right into her arms, just like the time she had done on one of their sleepovers when they had just watched Scream for the first time. Brittany had been certain that Ghostface was at the door and was about to get in. Santana had actually been in the bathroom getting herself dressed at the time, and only just managed to pull her nightshirt over her head before Brittany had thrown herself on her, hollering about never answering the phone because 'he was outside'. She had easily been able to hold Brittany up then by locking her arms around her. Brittany wasn't as tall in those days. Brittany had clung to her, winding her arms tight around her neck until Santana was forced to remind her that oxygen was important too, before gently lowering the girl to her feet and promising that nobody was answering any phones and she would protect Brittany from any creepy guys in masks.

Now a year later, the size different was starting to become noticeable, but that wasn't what was bothering Santana as she carefully pushed Brittany away trying to ignore the hurt look on her face.

"I missed you Santana," Brittany said, not remembering to say hello like always.

Santana mumbled it back, looking at her feet, "I'm sorry I've been kind of MIA Britt. Mom's new boyfriend moved in with his son and I've kind of been dealing with that."

Before Brittany could ask any questions, Quinn walked up to them and sneered in Brittany's direction, "Come on Santana. We'll be late to class."

"Wait! I need to find the portal to Mexico," she said showing Santana her arm on which a very messy map was scrawled all over it from Brittany's wrist right up to her elbow. Paths were crossed out and then redrawn in places as if the she had no idea what she was really doing.

Santana softened, "Britts, have you been able to find any of your classes?"

"Well… I found the first one! Mostly because my mom helped me. I did a lot of important work there, I had to say my name and everything."

"Britts, that was attendance. What happened after that?"

"Well… I kind of forgot how to leave for a while, because it wasn't our classroom, you know? I mean, I haven't had a chance to study it and work out which way the door is yet."

Santana nodded. She knew what Brittany was saying. Every year of Elementary school when they got a new room and a new teacher, it took Brittany at least a week to figure out the layout of the classroom. She had gotten faster every year though, and Santana had kind of hoped that this year she would have been alright by herself. Apparently not. The completely new setting and mass quantity of new classrooms had regressed her a bit.

"Come on, Quinn and I know the way to Spanish. We're in that class next too. I'm sorry… I should have helped you," Santana said ashamed.

Brittany smiled at her as if she was the earth and sun, just happy that Santana was paying attention to her again, "Is the portal to Spain stuck in a fat lady painting?"

"Ah, no… It's just down the hall. It's pretty easy to find. I'll draw you a more Brittany-friendly map in class, okay?"

"Yeah… Thanks Santana!"

Quinn rolled her eyes, but Santana's own misted over a little, "You're welcome Brittany."

Brittany was as grateful and enthusiastic as ever. She hardly even seemed mad over Santana ignoring her, even though deep down Santana felt like she probably would have deserved it.

Feeling bad, Santana made some excuses up as to why she hadn't talked to her. As they walked to class, she talked about her mom's new boyfriend taking up her time which at least was true. It didn't seem enough, so then she made some more excuses up about having to look after her sick 'snake' around the clock over the holidays, and how she'd been studying because she wanted to get ahead on her new high school classes. Brittany bought them all. She never questioned anything Santana told her. With one look at Brittany's open forgiving face, Santana knew the minute she saw her that the distance thing she'd planned was never going to work out.

* * *

After school, Santana pushed open the door to her house and sighed in relief when nobody was home.

She hated Craig, the loud obnoxious man her mom was dating, but she kind of liked Tomas his son. Tomas was two years older than she was and was tall with impossibly neat wiry black hair. He hadn't taken his eyes off Santana ever since he'd moved in to the spare room across the hall. He was only here sometimes because he lived with his mom for the rest of the time but lately he'd been making excuses to stay here longer. Craig was delighted because his son was so rarely interested in the woman that he dated and he assumed that Tomas wanted to get to know his new partner better, not thinking even once that maybe he was more interested in his new partner's daughter.

Maria Lopez had shifted out a lot of her ex-husband's old stuff to make room for Craig and Santana had been furious. Worst of all, Craig had taken over Papi's space. He was now using the room that had once been the office Papi had used to sort out his medical files. It was in that same room a very long time ago now, that Santana had sat in his lap as he had promised her the world, or at least ice-cream when he was next not busy.

He always would tell that when he was finished with his files they would go out and Santana could have Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough flavor her favorite They only ever went one time. He hadn't even been finished working on what he wanted to do, and he was tense and frustrated the whole time, wanting to get back to his work.

_Six year old Santana stared at him over her cone waiting for him to do 'Papi stuff' like he used to do when she was really small. She wished he'd tickle her or pretend that there was an ice-cream monster in her tummy. She got ice-cream on her nose on purpose, hoping her dad would laugh and get some on his too and they would rub noses like they used to. When they did that, it was giving each other a cold Eskimo kiss, as cold as their noses would really be if they lived in igloos. Instead he just stared at her, yet not even noticing what she'd done. Santana had never felt more invisible._

_A month later, he was gone. _

When Santana caught her mom throwing out his desk a few weeks ago over the holidays she had started screaming at her in a torrent of enraged Spanish and it wasn't long before Maria was screaming back.

"_Mami. Usted no puede sustituir a papi como este! YOU CAN'T JUST REPLACE HIM LIKE THIS!" Santana yelled, tears dripping down her cheeks, trying to physically block her mother from getting rid of any more things. It was the first time her mother had asked someone to move in, usually she just spent a lot of nights away from home. _

"_I damn well can! He's never ever coming back Santana. He doesn't want us! Tratar con ella! Deal with it!"_

Santana had then yelled back that she hated Craig, and Maria had made to slap her in the face, before she caught herself and lowered her hand slowly before it connected with her daughter's tear-stained cheek.

Although she hadn't been struck, it had scared Santana all the same and she'd spent the next three hours looking numbly at her phone wanting to call Brittany but not quite being able to bring herself to do it.

Reliving the moment again now, she felt tears come to her eyes and the same familiar pull to get to Brittany. She knew that if she'd asked, Brittany would have followed her home, she'd probably already wanted to, but hadn't because of how weird Santana was acting.

Santana had been lost in thought for most of the afternoon, and it was getting late now. Brittany was probably eating dinner, sorting it all into colors and trying to make a rainbow before she ate it like she usually did. When Santana was with her, nothing ever seemed as bad as it was, she was able to get lost in Brittany's purity and innocence and forget all the shit in her life. Just being around Brittany could relieve her of her problems like nothing else could. It wasn't as if Brittany didn't have stuff to deal with too, it was just, it didn't seem to affect her and bring her down the same way Santana's life affected her. She had almost convinced herself to dial Brittany's number so they could sneak away together, hopefully while her Susan was in the shower, and they could talk about different cat breeds or whatever, when Tomas strode into her room like he owned the entire place even though she guessed he actually could now call it his part time home. He'd been quiet though, she hadn't even known he was here.

She didn't want him to see her red eyes so she quickly turned away so she wasn't facing him and spoke through a curtain of her hair, "Hi Tomas, is everyone downstairs?"

"Nah," he said, coming over to sit on the edge of her bed fiddling with the corner of her blanket, "It's just me. Dad and Maria have just headed off to a retreat somewhere, they figured I should stay over here for a couple of days and watch you and go to mom's again when they get back."

"Oh," Santana said and processed this. Her parents hadn't set up any sort of babysitter for her since she'd turned six. She didn't need one. She voiced this to Tomas, "I don't need anyone to watch out for me. I don't need like a big brother or anything" she said with a small pout.

Tomas laughed. It was an all knowing laugh that set her on edge a little.

"Trust me, I have no intention of being your big brother," he said, "I can't say I don't have other intentions though."

"What?" Santana was confused, "What do you mean."

He got up and closed the door to her room, although the move was pointless because there was no one else in the house. When he had shut the door all the way he gave her a pointed look, appraising her small form still lying on the bed with her cell phone in her hands as he made his way over to her.

"We have common enemies," he said sitting close to her and running his hand up the back of her thigh, "Dad and Maria. Can't say I've ever got along well with Dad and no offense but your mother kind of reminds me of a praying mantis. I'm just waiting for her to rip Dad's head off any day now."

Santana giggled, and moved her hair aside to look at him.

"Anyway," he continued, "I don't expect them to stay together long, Dad's record of keeping girlfriends is about nine months. What's your mom's?"

"Less," Santana muttered.

"Yeah, so I say screw 'em. I say we make the best of our… brief cohabitation and try to enjoy ourselves as much as they are. Because why should we always be the one's to suffer?" He spread his arms out to emphasize his point.

"You want to kiss me?" Santana said trying to keep cool.

Kissing Tomas wouldn't be so bad, would it? It would give her a story to tell Quinn and she kind of liked the idea of knowing that she'd done something that would really piss off her mother if she only knew. She'd so far only bested her mother once when she'd borrowed her earrings years ago and accidently lost them during a space mission with Brittany. Santana had then said that Maria must have lost them herself at a singles party, after which she'd come home extremely drunk. Her mother had arrived home with only one shoe, so she bought Santana's explanation for those missing earrings readily and for once in her life when it came to her mother, Santana was the one laughing.

"Mami would be furious if she found out about …us," Santana said lowering her arms down and resting her chin on top, "She'd kick me out."

"Trust me, they won't be finding out. And I don't want to kiss you," he said, his eyes piercing hers.

"What do you want to do then?" Santana asked. Santana smiled in relief, maybe she could just sort of feel him up and then she could just tell Quinn that there had been kissing.

He frowned, "You're not very experienced are you?"

Santana hated to be told she wasn't good at anything, she was kind of a perfectionist that way so she scowled and immediately looked for someone to blame. It fell to Brittany.

"My best friend isn't into this stuff, so I haven't had the connections most people have," she said stiffly.

"Oh. What a drag," he sighed.

"Yeah," said Santana her voice hoarse. That one little word was the cruelest she had ever been to Brittany, in front of _or_ behind her back. Santana felt like scum which made her all the more willing to do what Tomas asked of her next.

"You've never gone down on someone have you?"

"No," she whispered.

"It's easy," he said, "and it makes a guy feel awesome."

"Okay," she said. It couldn't hurt to try it right?

* * *

When it was over and Tomas had gone back to his room, she lay back and looked at the ceiling at the glow and the dark hearts Brittany had stuck up there years ago. She couldn't see them. All she could see was Tomas's eyes and how for those minutes he had looked down at her like she was his whole world. Santana was pretty sure that she had made him love her. It was gross, she didn't have feelings for him, and Tomas had looked so offended when she had spat it out. She would have to remember not to do that next time. But before that, Santana had felt that sense of euphoria, like she was the center of his world. So was what she did such a huge price to pay? She wasn't sure.

* * *

She was even less sure the next day. When she saw Brittany, she was as apologetic as one of Brittany's 'apologizing to blades of grass moods.' Feeling as fragile as she'd ever had, she didn't hesitate, she timidly approached her and wound her arms around Brittany's neck, her body caving into hers. She needed Brittany. It felt like all her insides had been carved out of her and she needed filling back up.

They were growing into each other somehow. The first time they had hugged each other properly hadn't been awkward at all, but it hadn't been like this. It seemed the older they grew only served as more time to mold into each other. Santana had imagined they had started off once upon a time like two more generic semicircles which could meet in the middle to form a circle. Now, they were more like a yin yang symbol, parts where Santana left off could be filled by Brittany and the same in symmetry. Santana could feel all of Brittany against her and her shoulder was almost just the right place for her to lay her head. It would be perfect soon, Santana wasn't getting any taller, but Brittany was still growing.

She whispered that she was sorry over and over in Brittany's ear. Brittany didn't say a word. Brittany noticed Santana was rubbing her eyes which meant that she was either sleepy or sad and if she was sleepy, Brittany didn't want to make any noise at all because maybe if she was quiet enough, Santana would fall asleep right here and Brittany could carry her up to bed.  
_She's seemed so tired lately, _Brittany thought_._ On the other hand, if she was sad, Brittany didn't want to use any words because she was certain she didn't have the right ones, and she would mess things up. Being silent was the best way to show she cared.

Santana's body ached and she burrowed closer to Brittany for comfort. She knew why it hurt. Something inside Santana had changed and she almost smiled as she remembered back to a year ago when the same thing had happened to Brittany and what her response to it had been.

_Brittany hadn't spoken a single word in almost an entire week. Santana was getting desperate. This kind of elective mutism was extremely common with her, but that didn't ever make it a good thing and it usually meant she was upset about something. She cornered Brittany and begged her to tell her what's wrong and after a while Brittany began breathing harder and humming, a sign that she was trying to convince herself to talk. Santana held her hand, stroking her palm and tracing the lines gently trying to encourage her. The longer she went without speaking, the harder it was for her to start again. It was almost like she forgot how to speak entirely and this worried Santana. She should never have let this go on for a whole week. _

"_Santana I…I'm…I'm dying." Brittany's voice eventually spoke up, cracked from disuse. Her face was solemn, yet pinched and drawn as if she was trying desperately to stay in control and not cry._

"_What?" Santana immediately panicked. _

"_I'm dying," Brittany pleaded, obviously not able to explain it better than that. _

_Santana forgot herself in the moment and grabbed hold of Brittany's shoulders even though the girl already looked terrified. "Did you go to the doctor or something Britts? What happened? What did they say to you? What's going on?" __Tears were beginning to leak out of Santana's eyes._

"_Somebody hurt me," Brittany whispered, "I think it was Ghostface or that fisherman. There's a crime scene under my clothes." _

_Santana reeled back. "What?"_

"_A crime scene," Brittany whispered again, "It was probably the fisherman with the hook. That would explain everything."_

"_That's a movie Brittany!" Santana snapped and then made her voice considerably more gentle when it looked like Brittany was about to close up again._

"_It's okay sweetie," Santana soothed, taking both her hands this time. Realizing that it wasn't helping asking who had hurt Brittany, she changed tactics, "Where did they hurt you? We'll fix it."_

"_Down here," Brittany pointed, "I've been bleeding all week. I think I'm going to die soon because it's not stopping and healing like the cut on your head did that time. I'll miss you so much, Santana," she said with almost no emotion whatsoever which revealed only that she was struggling to keep control._

_Suddenly the tension dissipated and a wave of calm washed over Santana. She bit her lip trying desperately not to laugh. Laughing was absolutely the only reasonable response to this situation as seconds ago her heart had been pounding almost out of her chest and all that nervous energy as it left her body had to go somewhere. Yet she didn't, she showed remarkable control and explained to Brittany about periods and how everyone got theirs eventually. _

"_I don't use periods," Brittany pouted, shaking her head, "just exclamation points." _

_This was entirely true, Brittany much preferred to end every sentence with a line and a dot. Dots were too small, Brittany found exclamation points had more to love. _

"_Not like in writing Brittany," Santana said patiently, "more like in… growing up. It's just what happens when all girls grow up and their bodies become ready for things."_

"_But I'm not grown up." Brittany said confused. _

"_I know, Britts, but our bodies get confused sometimes, especially yours, like when you're really cold in Summer." _

_Brittany paused for a moment, and unlike Santana the tension did not leave her face. _

"_You were really scared, huh?" Santana asked, cupping her hand under Brittany's chin, trying to get her to look into her eyes again rather than at Santana's Converse shoes, "it's okay, I was scared just now too. I thought you were really dying and I was going to lose you."_

_Brittany still didn't respond, she just began wringing her hands together and tapping her feet. _

"_It's okay to cry if you need to." Santana kept her hand under her chin and extended her fingers along Brittany's jawline, moving them up under her eyes where tears should be. Santana's own tears hadn't had time to dry on her face yet. _

_Brittany shook her head. She wouldn't cry. She never cried anymore. _

_Santana nodded. She understood. Brittany didn't always 'just cry' like everyone else. For her, a lot of the time crying only turned into meltdowns that were intense and went on forever like that time Quinn had insulted her and stolen her hat. If they started, she couldn't stop so she tried to never start crying at all. It was a fear, maybe almost a phobia now. Santana didn't mind, she wouldn't have minded if Brittany had a meltdown or if she had cried right here. But if Brittany couldn't, that was okay too. These days, Santana was crying enough for the both of them. _

Santana kept whispering apologies as Brittany's arms tightened around her lower back. She didn't know exactly what she was apologizing for. Maybe it was because she now had a secret from her. Maybe it was because she had ignored her for the sake of a stupid boy like Tomas and because of how she'd ditched her for those nameless boys at the dance. If it was a betrayal, the worst part was that Santana didn't think she could stop. She'd started something now, she'd gone down another path and there were expectations that she keep going.

The ache in her lower stomach reminded her that her body thought she was ready, but maybe her body was the one that was betraying her. The one thing she was certain of was that the girl holding her close right now had never betrayed her and maybe never would. With this thought, Santana apologized all over again and in response, caring hands rubbed her back and Santana wondered if Brittany could actually sense she was in pain this time.

"You're making the same face you made when I first met you and you were all sore and beat up." Brittany murmured.

"You really noticed," Santana couldn't help whispering back, shocked. She'd taken a sharp intake of breath when Brittany spoke and Brittany had mirrored it. They were now breathing exactly in sync, their chests rising and falling against each other. Santana shuffled impossibly closer to her. Brittany's warmth soothed the ache in her stomach which was only partly caused by her coming of age and otherwise a result of confusion and mixed feelings swirling inside her.

Brittany shrugged. She always noticed everything about Santana, she noticed everything as far as her own eyes could see.

* * *

**I've particularly tried to tell "Santana's" side in this chapter, because if I don't get that right she'll be misunderstood when she gets snarky and mean at times later on… exactly the same as the character often did on the show. This whole story is actually kind of a personal challenge for me in empathy, that elusive skill that has taken me so long to develop. It's like, if I can be empathetic enough to tell her side properly, then I know you'll all feel sympathy for her the whole way through. If everybody isn't rooting for her too, then I've failed her. She went through a lot, there's a couple of heavy themes in this chapter and everyone deals with their pain only as best as they know how. I didn't even realize how heavy some of this stuff is until I saw it in writing, it makes me look forward to sharing something happier. Also, I think I'm only one chapter away now from hitting season 1 timeline. **

**Three things: **

**1. I am sorry for the "Tomas" thing. It makes me sick to write about him, any scenes I have to write with "Santana" and boys will be as brief as possible. In the interest of full disclosure of the truth, I couldn't omit him completely. Also if I did, it would be like saying what she went through doesn't matter. **

**2. "Brittany" has some small extent of an eidetic/photographic memory. Most people with autism have some claim to it even if they don't realize. It's why she can recall a memory of Santana's face like a snapshot years later and match it to the present one like at the end of this chapter. It's also how I recall exact details of conversations to include them in the story. I'm noting it here because I'm not going to say anything about it in the story. **

**3. At this age, I really did read every Sweet Valley related book ever written and watch that TV series. :P **

**I always want to hear your thoughts if you've got time. :)**


	8. On Vaginas and Understandings

**xoxo- I admit I did a little dance over your review, it kind of looked like Brittany's dinosaur dance in the prom episode actually. I was just really happy that Santana's motivations were understood. I don't think I could continue this if people thought she was 'evil' rather than 'fragile.' Santana has hurt me, but I don't really understand why people retaliate against their loved ones and deliberately try to make them look bad in front of others. It lacks logic to me, and speaking of logic, I'm glad you liked Brittany's logic being actually awesome. I wish they did that on the show more too! **

**Puff614 – Love this quote from you! "Santana will realize that she needs Brittany not just to make her feel innocent again, but because she really does care about her, and that caring is ok" because I think that's a big part of Santana's own 'road to becoming unicorn' because both Santana and Brittany have their own path they need to take in this story to become better people. I'm glad you liked it. :)**

**Taeblancaxoxo – Thanks for reading and I'm glad Tomas didn't put you off too much! I'd love it if Mrs Pierce would change her opinion of Santana, but unfortunately she remains narrow minded and judgmental to this day. Unlike the rest of the characters no growth really happens with her, so she won't appear much in later chapters**.

**I have lots of alerts and favorites now :) I just wanted to say as well, that I hope the fact that this is a real life story isn't putting people off from reviewing. None of the people in it know I'm doing this, so it's just me and I won't be offended if people have opinions about things the characters do. I don't have anyone I can talk about these events with irl and this might not make much sense but I really want to hear what you think because my brain isn't… 'typical' and it's hard to know if there's something I should have done that a more typical brain would have thought of, or if what I've done is the right thing. **

* * *

**Chapter 8 – On Vaginas and Understandings. **

**Brittany S. Pierce, Present.**

I've always liked being on my own. If I couldn't be with Santana, then my own company seemed a pretty good second best.

Lord Tubbington and I are similar in that way. When I'm not around, it's not like he'll hang out with Katie and my parents, he'd rather stay under my bed by himself. It's kind of like how I preferred to hide in one of the janitors closets all day when Santana wasn't at school. Sometimes, even when I am around, Lord Tubbington just wants to be near me rather than to be held. I think all cats have Asperger's syndrome.

Santana hated being on her own, even for a second. As we grew older, this only seemed to get worse.

She craved any sort of attention, good or bad. I don't know if she even knew the difference. She would substitute sexual attention for love and intimacy and use how other people treated her to define who she was. My brain is unable to really know how other people see me, but this became the most important thing to Santana. It became even more important to her than I was. I'd be here all day if I tried to tell you about all her conquests to stay on top of the Cheerio pyramid (both literally and figuratively). If people thought she was special, feared her, wanted her, wanted to be her – then she could feel okay about herself for a while. But it never could last. Like an addict she'd be back throwing herself at people as I watched her wondering why I could never complete her like I used to, and like she still did for me.

* * *

**Brittany S. Pierce, age 14-15.**

Brittany liked being on the Cheerio's, and Santana had been right about persuasion in numbers to get them on the squad. At tryouts, Coach Sue Sylvester had no defense against the three of them, an unholy trinity hell-bent on getting on the squad. After their audition, Quinn had fluttered her eyelashes and persuaded and Santana had backed her up with sass and force. Brittany had just confused the woman with a hit of her random logic which may have actually been the most helpful of all, as it stunned Sue into silence and probably kept her from formulating any more arguments against having them on the squad. Had they auditioned alone, they knew they probably wouldn't have all made it, but as a group they had been unstoppable. The first time Quinn and Santana had put the uniform on, to them it had felt like success. Brittany was just glad she had a uniform and didn't have to think of what to wear anymore.

Santana was vague when she finally told Brittany about what happened with Tomas. Brittany didn't react much to the news except to try and be positive about it, thinking that Santana would want her to be impressed. Santana could tell Brittany was trying to be supportive, though she wasn't sure if Brittany even understood all of what she meant, especially when she asked Santana, "Where did you go down… to? The mall?"

If she was honest with herself, Santana was as confused as Brittany about what had happened. In their own separate ways, they were both trying to make sense of it, as if something like this had a way of making sense at all.

Santana was even more vague with Quinn, preferring to allude to a mysterious guy she was pleasuring beyond any proper identifiable scale, and letting her decide for herself.

"_It's too hot for me to even talk about Quinn, and you should stop asking me afore's you break out in a sticky hot sweat and rust that chastity belt of yours."_

Unlike Santana's mother, Judy Fabray had cared about the previous Dalton dance incident and Quinn had been given serious consequences, including being thrown into their high school Celibacy Club. Judy even made a large donation to the school every six months to make sure the club was properly funded and maintained with guest speakers coming in to talk about why abstinence was always best. Of course, part of the deal was that Quinn had to remain president of the club for all terms that she remained at Mckinley.

Quinn, held by the bounds of Celibacy Club, couldn't say she had gone as far as Santana yet, but she had been developing a steady reputation of being a real tease, flirting with everyone but letting them know they couldn't have her. Santana's reputation as being 'the easy one' in contrast, began to snowball, especially since Jacob Ben Israel who had a notorious gossip blog and an equally notorious wild imagination, had taken to predicting what 'pleasuring beyond any identifiable scale' could mean very seriously.  
Rumors spread quickly, and to Santana and it didn't matter that people were looking at her differently, it mattered to her more that they were looking at her at all, and she enjoyed every minute of it. There were definitely perks to being in the spotlight.

Frustrated by Brittany's lack of sexual knowledge and obvious lack of understanding about what Santana was painfully trying to tell her about Tomas, Santana had realized that she had to give Brittany the full sex talk. She was certain of it after Brittany pointed out several 'raccoons' in the cinema watching a romantic comedy with them, freaking out the cleaner who thought he had to call animal control. 'The Talk' came complete with a recap and quiz questions at the end. Brittany was so full of information about hard-on's and ejaculation and the like, that she was overwhelmed and tended to overflow with it and answer any old question with the answers to Santana's quiz.

In History class, Mrs Mack had called on Brittany in class, and had asked her who the president is, and Brittany had answered "vaginas."

Other times, she'd answer questions with "mating." For reasons unknown to Santana, she seemed stuck on that term. After announcing the capital city of West Virginia was Mount Vagina in their Geography lesson, Mr Fitzgerald had promptly sent her to Principal Figgin's office as it wasn't her first offense answering a question in this manner. It wasn't even her second, third or fourth.

The one thing Santana couldn't convince Brittany of was that babies didn't come from the cabbage patch, or from storks like in the old Roadrunner cartoons. Apparently it all depended on whether you had a vegtable garden or not.

"_But you told me yourself San, they come from cabbages, like in Peter Rabbits garden!" Brittany said, visibly getting upset. _

"_I know Brittany, but I was just a kid then."_

In Santana's opinion, that was just another frustrating thing about Brittany. Once someone said one thing to her she found it hard to overwrite it with a new thing. Stuff from her childhood would get stuck in her mind and be her guide as to the way things were. Half of her information about the world came from cartoons she'd watched even up to ten years ago. Santana knew that this was part of her disorder, she knew that Brittany's brain would always have a resistance to change and that wasn't her fault.

It was just that change was so important to Santana now. Everything was about getting ahead and being on top and that meant updating yourself with the times like Madonna had done all her life. Your clothes couldn't be last season, you couldn't speak retro unless retro was in and music was frequently being outlawed at McKinley High for becoming lame, even if it had only been released this year.

All the current trends may have gone over Brittany's head, but Santana's strange behavior didn't. Brittany started to feel like she was waiting in a queue to spend time with her. She had to wait for Quinn to not be around, and she had to wait for the drooling guys in school to leave them alone. Sometimes, she had to wait for Santana to come back to herself. It was like she got stuck on another setting and even after everyone left, Santana would still be bragging and showing off like she was a whole other person.  
Brittany just wanted 'her Santana' back. It was a lot harder to 'fix' Santana when she got stuck than it was for the repair man to fix the settings back to normal on their washing machine at home. Santana didn't even seem to want to be fixed.

Santana wasn't sure what she really wanted. She was starting to feel like every day she drifted further away from Brittany who was stuck fast in the same place year after year. For a while, drifting had sort of felt like she was moving away from a warm bright light into cold darkness but after a while she turned all those feelings off assuming that this was just what growing up felt like.

It wasn't the safe and comfortable world of childhood Brittany still lived in but that was as it should be. Santana figured she wasn't _supposed_ to feel good anymore now that they were older, it was about being successful and popular and achieving. Adults or even teenagers obviously don't get to be happy as well as being successful. She had to bury herself in adult things now, things which would get her noticed. Things, which would distract her from what was going on at home.

Things like, 'the list'.

The list was started by Santana at cheer camp. Quinn, the protégé, was in a private room with Coach Sue and some of the seniors. It was an honor, but she hated it as Sue made her slap herself with anything handy at any given moment, just for her own amusement.

Lindsay, Rhonda, Maggie and Leah, four girls who were all currently in favor with Santana, were all lying on the floor in their shared cabin, exhausted from a full day of boot camp routines. Brittany was sitting on the floor with Lord Tubbington, fascinated by a spinning toy with a ball inside that he'd probably stolen from the camp leader's owner's Maine Coone.  
To everyone's annoyance she had insisted on bringing her cat with her, insisting he could give them advice on the tick tock cheer leading stunt move they were trying to pull off by the end of the week. It was a dangerous move for beginners but then again, Coach Sue didn't care about little things like that. Santana watched the two out of the corner of her eye as they spun the toy around continuously, Lord T with his over sized paw, and Brittany with her long slender fingers. Santana wondered which, cat or girl, would get sick of the game first. She bet on Lord Tubbington.

Everyone longed for the free time at the end of the day which almost always turned into gossip sessions, except Brittany. She hated them because so many people crowded into her space and talked about things she didn't really understand. On the first night, Santana had scolded her for not being friendly enough.

"_Brittany, you could have at least pretended that you were interested in Rhonda's story about sneaking into the boys cabin!" Santana said. _

"_Why? They aren't going to like me anyway," Brittany sighed, "and besides, Rhombus isn't a ninja like me. You know they all saw her." _

Santana had giggled in spite of herself. Rhonda was even taller than Brittany and nowhere near as stealthy and quick. She also walked with a bit of a gangly stoop on an angle, much like the aforementioned shape, and yes, she was impossible to miss.

It was the third night of camp now and news had begin to slow to the point where everyone was getting restless. Brittany was hanging upside-down from one of the top bunks, dangling her arms down and swinging them backwards and forwards. Santana took the lull as an excellent opportunity to move the focus to herself and called everyone over. Brittany shook her head when Santana gestured for her. She was humming the Purple People Eater song and didn't want to stop until she had finished.

Ten minutes later, when the purple creature had finally joined the Rock and Roll band and the song was over, Brittany surveyed the group from upside down. She could tell something big was going on. Everyone in their cabin were speaking in hushed excited voices. Lord Tubbington had gone to raid everyone's bags for snacks so he was no help and couldn't be sent in the circle on a recon mission. Brittany would have to do it herself, so she slid down to the floor and inched her way closer to the group, army style.

Everyone was poring over a page full of names written in a special order down the page. It looked like a long list of girls in their year at Mckinely High. Santana's name was at the top. There were many names missing, names of girls considered too unpopular to mention. That hobbit, Berry, was one of them. Nobody cared what girls like her did. Of course, all members of the Cheerio's were present.

Santana explained to Brittany later that the person on top of the list was the person who had gone the 'furtherest' sexually and she was going to make damn sure that her name stayed at the top. She knew she could ignore comments like slut and whore so long as she had the whole squad and then some looking at her in awe. Nobody had actually gone all the way yet and Santana was relieved. That was one problem she didn't have to deal with yet.

The second problem was of course, Brittany. She was the only one who hadn't even kissed somebody yet. Santana took a deep breath. She needed to get Brittany included in this somehow and she needed to protect her. If this kept up, Brittany was only a step away from a slushie facial and that was unacceptable. Brittany would freak out, the coldness of the ice would get to her sensitive skin and Santana just couldn't deal with people laughing at Brittany when she'd inevitably start screaming.

Years ago now, Santana had vowed to protect Brittany and she wasn't going back on that now. She'd been doing it for years and had done it well, but she was slipping, she needed to stop Quinn rolling her eyes at her and she needed to get people talking to her at camp instead of pretending she wasn't there.

"Um… you guys," Santana started, "there's a person here that has _almost_ been as sexy as me." She wanted to protect Brittany, but she wasn't going to give up the top spot on the list for it.

The girls were immediately intrigued, "Who?" they asked in hushed whispers looking around at each other."

Santana jerked her thumb at her friend crawling on the floor, "Brittany."

"What?" they all said together a look of shared disbelief on their faces.

"Yeah," Santana nodded, "It's just, she's super cools about it. Like she don't even care."

"Wow," the girls said all turning their heads in Brittany's direction.

Looking up at them from the floor, Brittany saw the attention was on her and immediately felt uncomfortable. She hoped they'd stop staring soon.

"Hey Britts," Santana said, "it is true isn't it? You're way prommie in this list aren't you?"

Immediately realizing her mistake, she begged Brittany with her eyes to say yes, even though it was pointless. Brittany would never notice her expression and if she did she would never lie.

"Vaginas," Brittany said, her answer to everything lately.

Santana grinned triumphantly. _Yeah, that answer would do. _

"How come the boys from school don't talk about it?" Leah asked, "She's not just you know, going with losers to rack up the tally is she?"

"No way," Santana assured her, "she's into boys from other school's mostly, but the dudes she's been with at our school don't wanna say anything because…um… I threatened them not to 'cause I don't wanna face it but she's serious competition for me. I bet she might even have a perfect record of having made out with every guy in our grade by senior." Santana hoped they wouldn't notice that she'd just lied through her teeth, as she slotted Brittany's name into second place on the list.

It worked, the girls all suddenly looked at Brittany with new appreciation and for the rest of the week and beyond, they made an effort to include her. Even better, Quinn name was near the bottom. Santana was finally on top. She felt like a god.

* * *

The next day, Brittany felt almost like a god too. The list, which was now displayed for all to see in their cabin, had somehow made girls come up to her and be friendly and ask her advice about their 'problems' between cheer routines.  
Some girl with really long hair from their math class was even talking to her right now.

Brittany remembered her, and mentally mapped out how many seats she usually sat away from her. She never forgot anyone who called her a retard, and she could hear still the girl's laughter in her head that cackled from her mouth every time Brittany tried to answer a question in class.  
_How was I supposed to know that x did not actually have to just equal 'just x' and could in fact equal y or some other letter,_ Brittany thought, trying to break out of her literal way of thinking.

She figured this girl had to be a lot closer to actual retardation than she was, because she'd just asked her about the 'best kind of panties to get you feeling totally hot' as if it was the most important thing to know in the world. She couldn't understand how having that knowledge could be important to this girl, but Brittany assumed she was probably talking about comparing the brands of the thick woolen thermal kind that Brittany would never wear herself even in winter because they were way too scratchy. It wasn't like she'd even tested _any_ of them out let alone _all_ of them, so how could she know?

Brittany wrinkled her nose and told the truth, "I don't ever wear those, sorry." _Being popular is so overrated, she thought. _

Santana was alarmed and mistakenly thought Brittany had suddenly given up on wearing underwear cold turkey and made a mental note to do something about that ASAP, urging Brittany to make sure she 'sat like a lady' in the meantime. The girl however, had been delighted, and interpreted Brittany's answer as the best way to tease a guy was to go without any, and she had ran off giggling.

Brittany's popularity suddenly soared. She wondered if she was popular enough to start a Unicorn Club, just like she'd read about in the Sweet Valley High series. She liked that idea a lot, and she knew that it would probably make Santana happy if she could get along with more people.

* * *

On the last night, everyone went to bed early, having exhausted all possible avenues of gossip. Brittany lay in bed looking at the ceiling. She'd barely slept all week, it was too hard not being in her own bed, and it was so dark. There were no glow in the dark stars on this ceiling. Santana lay underneath her in the bottom bunk, reading by torchlight, her reading glasses perched on her nose. Brittany knew Santana must think everyone was asleep or she wouldn't have pulled her glasses out. She didn't know why Santana was so embarrassed by them, she thought they made her look smart and looking smart was a really good thing. Brittany tossed and turned, drifting in and out of sleep. She could hear Rhonda's gentle snores and Leah talking in a deep sleep talking about the Herkie jump.

Brittany felt a presence and opened her eyes slowly to see Santana face leaning over hers, appearing to be studying her with a strange and almost alien expression. Her eyes were bright and her features were lit up by a small sliver of light coming through a crack in the blinds on the other side of the room. Brittany briefly wondered if she was dreaming, everything about Santana seemed so surreal. Her presence seemed to flicker eerily in and out, at times making eye contact with Brittany, then seeming to be lost inside herself. Brittany wondered where Santana's mind had gone and what she was thinking about. It made Brittany forget where she was as well. Instead of being in the top bunk in the dark, they could have been transported elsewhere, like a strange abduction. For all Brittany knew, they could be now floating aimlessly in space.

"Will you be president of my unicorn club?" Brittany asked, figuring she wouldn't respond if she wasn't real.

Santana immediately shushed her, pressing her hand over her mouth, careful to make sure Brittany could still breathe through her nose. She left her hand there for moments longer than necessary, staring at Brittany as if she was in a trance. Brittany stared back at her, equally transfixed. The only thing Brittany could see was Santana's face. Her eyes wandered to the blackness around them, and then quickly back to Santana. She hoped Santana would stay in the light. She wasn't bothered by the darkness as long as she could see Santana. That was kind of how she felt about her life as well, if she considered everything she didn't understand to be like darkness.

Santana finally moved her hand from Brittany's mouth and began tracing up her cheek.

Brittany broke the silence. "In the books the Unicorn club always looked out for each other. I just want to be treasurer and look after the treasure. That just means I'm in charge of taking care of valuables, like you are?" she whispered barely audibly.

Santana's nails began lightly grazing down her neck. It was a place Brittany hadn't been touched before. She felt all the panic warning signs, it always felt like standing on the shore and being faced with a powerful wave that was about to crash into her and having nowhere to run. She didn't know why she fought through them because she would have pushed anyone else away. But not Santana. As Brittany's heart rate accelerated, she wondered why. _Why is it that I want Santana to touch me and not other people? _she thought trying to keep her palms from sweating and her body from shaking.

Santana frowned, responding to what she'd actually said out loud. "How do you figure that I'm valuable?"

"Well," Brittany breathed, "Puck said you're swag and booty. That's other words for treasure right?"

Santana exhaled a soft breathy laugh. "No, he said I had swag. It's like stupid slang for having style or some shit. And booty is like, your ass."

"You're not plunder?"

"No." Santana shushed her again and began drawing patterns on her stomach, creeping as high and low up and down in the space as she dared.

Brittany closed her eyes and lay back, determined to stay in the moment without having her brain completely cut out and blank itself out like it usually did when she was overwhelmed by something.

Santana rounded the corner of her ribs again and Brittany mumbled something.

"Hmm?" Santana whispered.

"Can I keep you anyway?" Brittany asked, her eyes big and brighter than ever, like orbs illuminated in the darkness.

Santana's heart beat fast in her chest, almost as fast as she could feel Brittany's heart beating under her hands. It was hard to understand the twists and turns of Brittany's brain and remember where they'd started, but in her own way, Brittany was asking if she'd be hers so she could take care of Santana, in her mind, treasurer as to treasure. It was sweet and it moved Santana. She explored Brittany's hipbones. She felt either not completely altogether here, or more present than she'd been in a long time. She wasn't sure which. As if her hand had a mind of its own, it was suddenly moving lower. Santana felt overpowered by a need, that she realized wasn't a superficial one of gaining power, it came directly from her, or what was left of the real her. Her movements became hurried and frantic dragging her nails across her, her face ghostly, in a reverie of desire that she'd kept hidden for too long.

Santana chanced a little lower and felt the skin under her hand suddenly shudder and Brittany's hips bucked as she stifled a scream. Santana clapped her hand over Brittany's mouth again, but Brittany wouldn't be silenced. "What was that?" she asked, "did you feel that?"

"No." Santana said too quickly, the moment broken. But before she could stop herself she had asked, "Did it feel good?"

Brittany nodded. "Yeah," she said breathlessly, "does this have something to do with that stuff you told me about va…"

"No," Santana turned away, torn.

"Do girls ever do that stuff with other girls?"

Santana's face was pained as she stared into Brittany's innocent trusting face which suddenly got a lot brighter when Rhonda hefted herself up and shone a torchlight directly on her. Brittany covered her face and curled into herself, hating the bright light as Santana tried to quickly pull Brittany's pajama top down.

"What were you guys doing?" Rhonda asked suspiciously, "I heard this really weird noise."

"Nothing," Santana said forcefully.

"Brittany?" Rhonda asked, knowing quite well that she didn't lie about anything, and had thus far had owned up to all of the pranks she and Lord Tubbington had played even before they'd been caught.

Santana looked hard at her. This was it. This was the moment that she was going to lose the entire reputation she'd built up. The parties would be over and so were people making way for them in the halls at Mckinley. It would be slushie facials for them both now. Santana held her breath, ready to run, though she didn't know where she would go.

"It was alien," Brittany said suddenly, looking at the ceiling as if a UFO had come down, "It was like someone I've never seen before doing things I've never had happen to me. I liked being probed, but I think I entered another planet."

Rhonda sighed. "Well, could you keep your next abduction quiet? Some of us like sleeping, you know."

Santana's eyes widened. Brittany hadn't exactly told a lie. She'd specifically left out the word 'an' literally only saying it was 'strange' rather than 'extraterrestrial' but she'd used language relating to aliens for the rest of it to deceive Rhonda without deceiving her. Brittany was a genius. An honest literal one, but still a genius.

"If anyone else asks tomorrow, tell them the same thing okay?" Santana asked, slipping back to her own bed, though she knew she wouldn't sleep.

Brittany nodded. She wasn't sure on the details so she wondered if she and Santana had mated. The thought of it filled her with a strange excitement though she didn't know why.

* * *

After she got home and did some research, Brittany discovered that girls really could like other girls. Boys could like other boys too. It was called being gay, which Brittany thought was a great word to call it, because she was happiest when she was with Santana. She also read about the fact that some people were afraid of people being gay and they thought it was wrong. Brittany wondered if they were talking about Rhonda and her mom or if they meant more people still.

Brittany didn't really care. Society and its social didn't mean much to her. Unless something was brought to her attention, she remained unaware of how the majority of people lived their lives anyway. She'd been told that she often came of as stupid or rude, but at the same time the good part was that she was open to just about everything and danced to the beat of her own drum.

_If everyone joined the Unicorn Club, then everyone would never be afraid to be themselves,_ Brittany decided. That was the main rule of being unicorn, you had to know and love yourself. And, if all the unicorns wanted to align themselves to a sexuality whether it was with boys or with vaginas, then, in Brittany's eyes, that was okay. She would make them tags showing what kind of unicorn they were. To love yourself was to be a uni-corn, to love just one sex must be a homosex-icorn or a lesb-icorn and to love both must be to be a bi-corn.

The treasurer of the Unicorn club was the most important job of all because all people were treasure, but especially Santana.

Brittany wasn't exactly sure if she loved herself, she'd never considered it. The only thing she was sure that she loved was Santana. So did that make her a Santan-icorn?

Was she even anything else?

* * *

Being at camp had done a lot to bring Santana and Brittany closer again, and they were once again holding pinkies as they walked to class, swinging their hands between them.

As happy as Santana was with Brittany at school, it couldn't take away the fact that Santana was in her own private hell at home.

She began to admit to herself that she wasn't as happy as she pretended to be about Tomas's arrangement, she wouldn't have minded it as much had it just been the one time, but he kept asking for it. Anytime she looked like she might start to refuse he just smiled at her and said that he could tell their parents.

He wasn't worried about Craig finding out, but Santana was scared to death about what Maria would do. Every time he came into her room, she never said no. As much as she wanted to say no, she just grit her teeth, leaned down and tried to keep liking the way he looked at her, although after a few weeks, it was almost like he was smirking at her as she looked up at him. She may have never said no, but she never said yes either. _Was this supposed to be what love was about?_ She began staying up and leaning against her door at night until she was sure Tomas had gone to sleep. She wished she could tell Brittany everything, but mostly she wanted to pretend it wasn't happening and that she couldn't feel anything. She didn't think there was a way out. There never seemed to be a way out of things that hurt her, and she'd always just had to act like she didn't mind.

Her whole life, both her mom and her dad had excused various things they did by saying "You understand, right Santana?"

They said it when they couldn't turn up at Santana's kindergarten graduation and she was the only kid there all alone.

They said it when she wanted a doll for her birthday and all she got was dumb sneakers and not even cool ones.

They said it when she was sick and nobody stayed home with her.

They said it when her dad left.

They said it when her mom left to spend the night with her boyfriend every night of the week leaving Santana with only TV dinners.

"_You understand right, Santana?" _

When she allowed herself to feel, she only felt anger, because it was an emotion that tended to multiply and breed, drowning all the others in its swell. Her mother and Craig continuously got on her nerves, and it was hard to sleep at night with all the noise they made when they were home. Santana was long past these sounds frightening her, but when she was little she had lay awake in the night, wondering if her mother was being hurt by whichever boyfriend of the time was staying over. Now, Santana was just over it and she wanted them all gone. It wasn't like they were a family when they were here anyway.

All Santana's feelings seemed almost like they were suffocating her, like she could barely breathe when she was at home.  
She wanted to just bury the pain, yet she didn't know how. Instead, she always ended up doing the very thing she'd sworn she wouldn't do, and it always ended up in an extra tick for Santana's name at the top of 'the list,' and with her failing Brittany somehow. She hated herself for that.

* * *

Brittany and Santana had spent today's Spanish lesson together, sitting outside the room practicing their adjectives under a tree. Mr Schuester only came out occasionally to check on them and the other pairs.

Santana was leaning on Brittany's shoulder and Brittany had circled her arms around the smaller girl and was holding up their flashcards in front so they could read off them and practice saying the words, not that Santana needed any practice.

Sitting under that tree, Santana had felt a sense of peace and contentedness that she hadn't felt in a long time and suddenly she wanted to tell Brittany everything, but she couldn't find the words. She turned her head and focused on Brittany's blue eyes and started telling her what had happened in Spanish, finding that it came easier that way.

"…y sólo quiero detener esto. Sólo quiero desaparecer."

Brittany stared at the flashcards in her hands and wrinkled her nose in confusion, wondering what Santana was saying. None of it was written on the cards. When Santana got to the parts that were hard to talk about, her voice dropped to a whisper and her hands shook.

Brittany dropped the flashcards and took Santana's hands. Unlike the 'alien invasion', this situation wasn't unfamiliar to her at all. She was so used to being in a situation where it was like people were speaking in a language that she didn't know, so when Santana actually did switch languages like this, it almost barely made a difference. She was so used to not knowing how to communicate with the people around her, that not knowing the right words back in the correct tongue felt like how life was for her all the time anyway.

She watched Santana's face, listening to her talk. The rest of the world was confusing but she had memorized Santana by heart. She knew that when Santana's voice got low and scratchy like it was right now, that meant she was trying not to cry. She had memorized most of Santana's expressions. She saw many of them often, and others so rare, sometimes only when they were alone. She knew that when her eyes would enlarge and then narrow slightly, and her eyebrows came closer together with her lips slightly parted, that meant she was confused at something Brittany had said. She had a special expression for Rachel Berry which came with an exaggerated eye roll. The higher Santana put her nose in the air and and when she rolled her eyes at others, the more defensive she was feeling and that usually meant someone had put her down at home. When her forehead wrinkled and her mouth tightened into a thin line Brittany knew that she had to hug her and get her away from everyone quickly because she was just about to burst into tears. She wasn't at that point now, but she was close.

Brittany also knew that Santana had many smiles and not all of them were nice because some of them came after insults. There was one smile though, that Brittany only saw when they were alone. It was a slow kind of smile and her eyes seemed to soften impossibly. Brittany had first seen it the day they met, the first time they had linked their pinkies together. She knew it was a special smile and she knew it was only for her, and it always had been.

Brittany had heard that people were all supposed to have the same expressions when they felt stuff like happiness sadness, anger or shock like when they felt surprised. Yet that couldn't be true, because Santana was the only one that she could really see.

She studied Santana now, the expression on her face was the same look she got when Maria accused her of wrecking the latest of her relationships.  
Three boyfriends before Craig, Maria had been dating a lawyer, and when he'd left her Maria had glared at her daughter telling her that she needed to quit the bad language, up her grades and stop getting so many letters home from Principal Figgins because obviously nobody wanted a daughter in law who was trouble. The look on Santana's face then had been pure shame and it was the same now. She was still whispering but the words weren't coming as fast now.

Brittany wanted to find ways to tell Santana that she cared. She had spent many hours silently holding Santana and saying nothing.

Now she wanted to use words, but it was like she didn't have a voice.

She had found recently that she could borrow other people's voices and use quotes from movies or songs, but as much as she meant every word of what she was saying, sometimes the fact it was a quote worked against her and made her sound insincere. She wished she knew what to say to the dark-haired girl. She tried anyway, doing her best to look in Santana's direction, going as close as she could to meeting her eyes before she spoke.  
"I've seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are: you're a hell of a woman."

Santana stopped whispering and looked at her through her lashes coated with unshed tears. "Isn't that from Buffy?"

Brittany nodded. In the show when Spike had said that, he had told Buffy how much he cared, and it had cheered Buffy up and given her strength. But, in spite of them being good words, they didn't seem to work on Santana, so feeling defeated Brittany went back to silence.

A couple minutes later she tried again and decided this time to tell Santana how she felt without words, so she pulled Santana closer so that she was half in her lap and wound her arms tighter around her. Santana gratefully leaned her head on her shoulder, curling her body into her as close as she dared.  
Santana always felt so privileged because she knew that Brittany would have pushed anyone else in the same position away. Santana could feel her friends heart beating faster and her breathing becoming slightly erratic as her body overreacted to their close proximity, but it wasn't panic anymore. She knew Brittany was okay, and as long as Brittany was holding her like this she felt okay too.

* * *

The next weekend, Tomas had a friend over. Maria and Craig were home and over dinner they had spent the entire meal praising Tomas's straight A's in school.

Ben, Tomas's friend was wearing that same smirk Santana saw so often on Tomas's face. Santana didn't know yet that Tomas had crudely filled him in on how far she had gone with him already. Tomas had told Ben in private that Santana was easy and he could share her if he wanted.

Santana had sat in the den with Ben playing video games for about an hour, while Tomas was in the other room constantly texting someone. She was feeling good. Ben was pretty cool and she was enjoying kicking his ass at this old game, Tekken 2.

When Tomas finally came in, she said goodnight to Ben, and went up to her room. She didn't lock the door. Her parents were close by and she figured Tomas would be playing Tekken with his friend for at least another two hours anyway so she wouldn't even see him tonight.

She decided to just call it a night. She switched off the lights and burrowed down under the blankets. It was cold, and she pressed her feet together trying to warm up, hoping that sleep would overcome her soon.

She heard gentle footsteps outside her room. When they paused she guessed it was her mother checking she was asleep. She squeezed her eyes tighter not wanting her mom to think she was awake and to yell at her for something or other.

The footsteps resumed and came closer until Santana felt the bed shift, a spot next to her sinking with someone's weight.

She figured it was Tomas.

She closed her eyes tighter hoping he would leave.

He didn't.

Eventually she spoke softly, "Please Tomas, not tonight. I just want to sleep." It was the first time she'd been direct about saying no.

"I'm not Tomas," the voice said back.

"Ben?"

"Yeah."

He got up from her bed and closed the door exactly as Tomas had done the first time he ever came into her room.

Then he told her to be quiet, because her mom was down the hall.

"You'll be special," he whispered to her, "the first of your friends, probably. You'll be the only one to have had this experience and it doesn't even matter because you've done stuff anyway. It's best to just get the rest done. _You understand that, right Santana?"_

_Yeah_, Santana knew she understood.

He dimmed the lava lamp by her bed that she kept on because secretly she was still just a little scared of the dark. And it happened. Quickly, unemotionlessly, and with fumbling hands and without words, Santana lost her virginity.

She stared at Brittany's glow in the dark hearts on the ceiling and counted them. _One. Two. Three. Four. _She slowed down.

She cried out when she got to thirteen. It hurt more than she thought it would. She lay back again staring at the hearts. Brittany had been trying to arrange them in the shape of a duck. As hard as she had tried over the years, she could never see the duck even though Brittany insisted it was there.

Maybe she had just never tried hard enough. _Ducks have bills right? Where could it be? Webbed feet, where were the webbed feet? THERE!_

Santana gasped. She saw it. It was kind of odd shaped, but it was cute and Brittany had made it just for her to look at before she went to sleep.

Ben took her gasp as an indication that she enjoyed it. Without looking back he slid off her and he was gone.

Santana had never felt more alone in her life. She reached her hands in the air and traced the shape of the duck in the air. _Once. Twice_. It gave her little comfort. All the lights were off in the house now and all was quiet. It was the kind of silence that was deafening because of how much meaning it held. This kind of silence meant that she had just given away a part of herself and nobody cared. Nobody was here whispering to her that they loved her, nobody was here making their side of the bed creak with their weight, there was no steady breathing sounds beside her. She was abandoned, used, dirty, a slut.

_I have to get out of this bed, _she thought and jumped out of it as if it was on fire. It wasn't good enough. She needed something.

Anything.

_I have to get out of this house. _

Before she knew even what she was doing, she had slipped outside and was running in the darkness to Brittany's house. She didn't even care what Mrs Pierce would say. She didn't stop for a second, she kept running all the way there, puffing heavily, the sounds echoing into the stillness of the night.

* * *

**Three things:**

**1. I have now finished with Santana + Boy scenes. Thank god. Any other times I can just mention now, rather than follow her and have it be an actual scene. They had to be in it though, because if you asked her the question "What events in your life make you, you?" she would have said the one with "Tomas" in the last chapter and this one with "Ben" for sure.**

**2. "The list" is not the same as "the Glist" mentioned on the show, we're nowhere near that timeline yet. In my head, years later when she was feeling desperate Quinn copied Santana's idea, hoping for the same rise in popularity and that's where the Glist on the show came from. I think a lot of people in the real world make lists like that, not just my "Santana."**

**3. Vaginas. That is all.**

**Oh, and I consider everyone who reads this story as part of the Unicorn club. :)**

**Let me know what you think!**


	9. Some Things Last Forever

**A/N I will be sending out unicorn headbands like in my avatar to all club members by mail, including bonus bags of sparkles that grant wishes and detachable fuzzy tails. Our meeting room will have dozens of copies of this purple plush 'pillow-pet' unicorn I proudly own instead of chairs, and rainbows painted all over the ceiling. :P No really, I wish I could do that. **

**xoxo – I do like to update every week if I can :) I actually had it done the week I missed, but I was staying overnight somewhere with Mrs Pierce and missed my usual update time, and then it was like being on a train and having to wait for the next stop to come around the following week. The joys of autism, haha. So I'm a bit early this week just to prove I can break routine. It's really interesting to hear that some other fics haven't always been able to incorporate canon very well. I didn't know that other people found it hard. It's good to talk to someone who has read other people's work as well and can compare- because I haven't read anything and I'm waiting for this to be over before I do so no influences happen. But anyway, I'm so glad you feel it aligns well! Brittany's sex life was the one major thing that didn't match at all with my irl story, so I had to be creative and change it up. As always great to hear from you!**

**Puff614 – That definitely makes sense :) As always you're spot on and understand exactly what I mean in every chapter, so thanks for that and thanks for reading :)**

**Taeblancaxoxo- Thank you so much for what you said, it would mean so much to "Santana" to hear that someone apart from me really felt for her over the "Ben" incident, and I'm glad you liked the chapter. :)**

**VeritoPerroni – Welcome newest member, I'm glad you're here! Haha, don't worry even if I were only writing for just five fellow unicorns, you'd all still be worth it :) **

**harleysantana23 – I'm sorry to make you want to cry sometimes, I always feel the same way writing it. I have a happy chapter coming up soon though. So glad to hear from you and I'm glad you like it. :) **

* * *

_So here's what you missed on glee. Ever since the Dalton dance, Brittany's mother has been attempting to keep the girls apart, and not succeeding because Brittany's decided to live by her own rules since Mrs Pierce's rules clearly weren't helping her. She's decided to try and achieve impossible things instead, which is a good idea because with her disorder, many things seem impossible. And, as for Santana, she's kind of a rebel and never cared for parental rules much in the first place. It looks like Mrs Pierce is yet another intolerant person the girls have to face, as if there weren't enough of those kinds of people at their school. _

_Whether she wanted to or not, Brittany's now entered a more adult world and is coming across more and more strange encounters of the sexual kind and she's finding these behaviors hard to understand. Her solution is simplifying them with information found in books about animals. Because, at least she understands animals, and luckily it works, well... sort of. People are so complex. There is just so much shared knowledge between them that Brittany has to force herself to learn the hard way. _

_Santana not dealing with her feelings has now turned into her outright avoiding them. I guess they got too big for her to cope with. Santana's had some bad sexual experiences, but is all about telling people she liked them. Santana's dead set on using her alter ego, which she'll eventually name Snix, to convince the world she's a different person than who she really is. Maybe Santana thinks that if everyone sees Snix, people won't really see how broken Santana is inside. And after all, if Santana's all about blocking all her feelings so none of them can get through - what's left to focus on other than superficial stuff like getting popular? Through Snix she gets power and praise that sort of keeps her going at least. Honestly though, Santana's ashamed of Snix, she hates that she's losing herself to this thing inside her. But she doesn't know how to stop. _

_The exception of course, is when Santana's with Brittany. Brittany brings her back. But it's not like Brittany knows right now what's going on, and if Santana did tell her, would she even understand? And that's what you missed, on Glee! _

* * *

**Chapter 9 – Some Things Last Forever**

**Brittany S. Pierce, Present.**

Santana always said that 'nothing ever lasts forever.' Whether she wanted them burned or not, so many bridges that connected her to things of her past are gone. People, places, emotions that she once felt, and parts of her soul she can no longer reach. Gone.

She told me that this kind of loss happens to everyone and it sucks, but it's something we all have to go through.

Did anybody ever say to you that they'd never forget a single moment they spent with you?

Well, they kind of lied, because everyone forgets stuff.

Even Santana forgets. It's not the main things or the big picture. As the years pass by it's the details she loses. For so many of our memories together, she's left only with a distant impression of how she felt at the time. She tried to hold on tight to the good times, she'd ask me to jog her memory a bit and leave her some clues to try and get back those small details that seem to have the potential to transport her back to the moment. But it's a losing battle. Some memories she's forgotten altogether. She doesn't remember when we were little anymore, for her it's like a blurry dream that's now a million miles away. She remembers a few details here and there, like something I'd drawn her, or what we watched on TV one day, but mostly she just remembers that even though things were difficult, she was happy and that she wishes more than anything she could have even just one of those days back.

I'm young and old at the same time for one simple reason – while she forgets, I can't. I remember all of our days like they were yesterday. I can tell you what Santana was wearing, and the exact words she called out to me while we ran around like crazy on a school trip to the circus, our linked hands also clutching pink and yellow balloons. I can relive it, and feel it, like it's only just happened. With me, things last. And I try to make them last for her as well, reminding her of details she would otherwise have forgotten. She's lost the way, but I can still take her back to the past.

There's only one catch, while in general I remember more than most, the near perfect recording only happens for things that are part of my world. That includes Santana, cats, ducks and Disney movies and does not include locations of places, how to fix things or a memory of our presidents.

Ask me about cat diseases, don't ask me where Iceland is.

Remembering all that I do, I live in both worlds, one foot in the now and one firmly in the past.

It's like having two souls, one very young, the pieces from innocent times kept intact, and the other older than I should be because remembering everything helps you learn from your mistakes faster and grow wiser. When I suffer in times of now, I can never be completely consumed because inside me there will always be a child of peace.

When I said to her "I'll never forget a moment I spent with you," I never lied.

Sometimes, things do last forever, sometimes in a way, people even stay the same forever.

But only if you're me.

I could always promise her for sure that I'd never leave her, no matter what life has in store for us. Because you never really ever leave someone if you can see and feel every detail of them clearly in your mind, do you? I'll always have that, so no matter what, she'll always have me.

* * *

**Brittany S. Pierce, age 15.**

It was 2am and when Santana reached Brittany's house, the light in her room was still on. It was strange for most people to be awake and roaming about at that hour, but it wasn't strange for Brittany. Santana knew her friend often had trouble sleeping and would instead start one of her miscellaneous projects at night, like that time machine she was apparently building.

She shivered, the cool night air drying the sweat in her hair making it form stiff strands. Not knowing what else to do, she threw a rock into Brittany's open window and then waved to her, trying to act cool when Brittany poked her head out confused.

Santana kept waving and then grew near tears when she realized that in the darkness Brittany couldn't see her. She sank down beside the Pierce's front garden and was about to completely lose it when the door opened.

"Lord Tubbinnngtonnn," Brittany called, "are you there? Are you throwing rocks at me because you're angry about Senor Seaman? I know it's gonna be super hard to adjust to having another cat around, but Santana told me a Senor is like the Spanish version of a Lord so you guys already have something in common. He sailed all the way here from Mexico to teach you good Spanish okay? So the least you can do is be nice to him."

Santana managed a smile. She needed a bit of Brittany tonight. In fact, she needed a lot of Brittany. She stepped out of the shadows.

"Hey Britt," she said softly.

Brittany jumped about a foot in the air and looked wildly around, her gaze finally falling on Santana. Santana stood there waiting for her to compose herself. She knew unplanned visits were hard for her.

"Hi San," Brittany finally managed.

When she didn't say anything else, Santana asked instead, "Why are you still awake?" When Brittany got stunned and confused like this, she knew she had to lead the conversation if she wanted to make any progress. Right now, the best kind of progress would be to get out of the cold. Santana shivered again.

"Oh… I was making a welcome poster. Do you want to come in and see?"

Santana exhaled in relief, "Yes… please."

Brittany took her hand and led her inside, up the stairs to Brittany's room. They didn't make much noise, though Santana knew that Brittany's mom was used to her daughter wandering around at all hours, so she wouldn't think much of a few noises. Still, she was ready to dive for cover in case Mrs Pierce emerged.

When they got to her room, Brittany pointed to a glitter covered poster which read 'Hola Senor Seaman!' and featured a hand drawn black and white swashbuckling cat manning a ship that was pointed towards a little map of America. Senor Seaman himself was now rubbing up against Santana's leg. Lord Tubbington was nowhere in sight, obviously in a jealous huff.

"I had more glitter… but… I sort of ate it," Brittany said gesturing to the poster, quick to add that it wasn't her fault, "It was an accident though."

Santana didn't question it. She knew Brittany had ingested weirder things and survived. A little bit (or possibly a lot of glitter judging by all the empty containers) wouldn't hurt her.

"It's beautiful Britt. I'm sure he feels very welcome," Santana told her warmly and Brittany swung their joined hands between them happily and beamed. Santana held on to her hand tight, hoping that she wasn't planning on letting go.

Brittany noticed the extra pressure and frowned, looking up at her friend as if seeing her properly for the first time tonight, "San… why are you here?" She took note of the fact that Santana was shivering and ran her hand up her arm. "You're really cold."

"Um…," Santana stalled. Why _was_ she here? She didn't want to have this kind of conversation , she just wanted to talk about meaningless stuff like glitter all night. The rest was just too hard.

Brittany was frowning at her with her nose all scrunched up, obviously trying to read her face.

Santana tried to make her face a mask, hiding her emotions so Brittany couldn't see. She imagined hiding them in a box where they could never be found, never be felt.

Brittany let go of her hand and turned around to look at something on her dresser. Santana whimpered from the loss of contact. Brittany turned her head around so fast at the sound that she would have given anything close to her whiplash.

"San?" she asked again. With a confidence that just… wasn't the Brittany that Santana was used to, she guided her to a chair. She placed a hand on her stomach and pushed her down gently, retrieving a brush from her dresser and moving to stand behind her so she could carefully brush out Santana's hair.

Blinking her eyes, Santana gave a thought to how messy her hair must be, especially after what happened at home (she so wasn't ready to say sex) and then from running all the way to Brittany's. She sighed, leaning back into the other girl's touch, letting Brittany show her affection in one of the few sure ways her friend knew how.

When she was done, Brittany's hand came around to her face and began gently stroking her cheek. Santana turned into her touch automatically, only realizing after a beat that Brittany was actually wiping away her tears. Santana hadn't even known she was crying.

Brittany's eyes were wide with concern. She knelt down in front of her friend resting her hands on her knees.

Santana turned her head away from her, embarrassed to be crying in front of her yet again, while Brittany waited patiently for her to say something, and after a beat reaching up to turn Santana's chin towards her with one of her long delicate fingers.

Finally Santana spoke, looking at her through the tears which were collecting in her eyelashes.

"Do I look any different to you?" she asked, praying the answer would be no.

Brittany ran her eyes up and down Santana before she answered.

"No," she said and smiled as Santana let go of a breath she was holding, "you just look like you, except sad. Maybe even right now you look more like you, than you did at school today. Why? Are you not really Santana in there?" She tapped Santana's temple gently.

"I'm not sure," Santana frowned, "I don't think I know what I'm looking for when I try to find her anymore."

Brittany moved forward and touched their foreheads together. "But she can always find me right?" she asked as she hovered, pressing her forehead close as if they were scanning each other.

"Yeah," Santana muttered, "if anyone can find me I know it would be you."

Brittany leaned back satisfied, and settled for instead running her hands up Santana's arms trying to warm her up.

"You're really cold San, do you want to lay in my bed for a while?"

"Okay."

It was soft but Brittany heard it and pulled back the covers for Santana to get in. Once she was wrapped up in Brittany's bed she felt comforted because everything she was touching smelled like her. It lulled her into calmness and forced her into honesty.

"Brittany, I just had sex with someone," she blurted out. She waited for the barrage of questions that would inevitably come and the lines of confusion on Brittany's face that came with them.

There was just one.

"Ejaculation?" Brittany asked trying out one of the new terms she'd been given on her tongue, trying to make sure they were talking about the right thing.

Santana released a breath and nodded, her fingers clenching Brittany's sheets in a tight fist.

"What was it like?" Brittany asked. She felt funny. Funny-strange, not funny-haha, like something strange had crawled inside her and was wriggling around. It made her head feel full and wooly when she tried to figure out why. Her only coherent thought was about cheer camp, when Santana had touched her. She wasn't sure why that moment was on her mind. It felt weird that somebody else had touched Santana like that. Brittany pushed all the thoughts away and studied Santana. Something was wrong. That was more important than anything else.

In spite of herself, when she answered the question, Santana tried to put on a defense, "Yeah, it was kind of exciting really. Something new, something different."

She got ready to launch into one of her typical bragging sessions.

"Santana," Brittany's voice had suddenly taken on a tone Santana had never heard her use. "Don't lie to me," Brittany said, her voice steady and calm.

Santana was completely shocked. Brittany had never questioned anything she'd ever said before. She reached for Brittany's hand, hoping that the contact would blank Brittany's mind out enough for her to stop talking like this and stop talking about feelings, but Brittany pulled away from her as if she knew that was exactly what she was trying to do.

"I'm not stupid," Brittany said, "something's wrong. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but don't lie to me. Don't lie to me when I trust you so much."

She was hurt too, and it showed.

Santana's defenses kicked into overdrive. She didn't like to be told how she felt and she especially didn't want to be told she was hurting, like she was weak.

She sat upright in Brittany's bed and snapped, "You're patronizing me." She threw the blanket off of herself, swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up as if to leave.

"No I'm not. I don't have a taser gun," said Brittany confusing the word with paralyzing.

Santana took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm herself down. Little by little she lowered herself down again to sit on Brittany's bed. They sat in silence for a while.

"I'm sorry," Santana said finally. She's lashed out because she hated to be wrong.

She wished she could be perfect. She didn't want to be the one lying to her best friend, the cause of the bright smile that had lit up her eyes only moments before disappearing. That was wrong, and Brittany deserved better. She knew she was just trying to help and that out of everyone in the whole world, Brittany was the last person who would ever look down on her and judge her.

"Just tell me." Brittany begged her, not knowing what Santana needed to say, but realizing that something seemed to be eating away at her. She begged her, but not for her own sake and not because she cared about gossip like Rhonda and the girls at camp did. She suspected that what Santana had to say would hurt her and she asked only because she sensed that Santana needed to tell someone.

So feeling braver, Santana told her. She told her about Tomas and Ben and how hard it was to keep up the facade with the boys at school. She told her everything, a long chain of happenings, yet she said nothing about how she felt about it all. At some point, during her recount of events, Brittany came forward and knelt in front of her again, as if the close proximity might help her take in what she said better.

When she was done, Brittany didn't say anything, she just placed her hands comfortingly in Santana's lap, though at times she twisted them together as she rocked on her heels.

"Do you understand?" Santana asked, starting to panic as the silence built.

"I understand what you're not saying," Brittany said finally.

"What's that?" Santana asked.

Brittany was silent.

"Brittany, please." It was Santana's turn to beg now.

Brittany was opening and closing her mouth, evidently trying to say something important, but failing as she struggled with words.

"I understand," Brittany said again, evidently not able to take it any further.

Santana wanted to say it was okay and Brittany didn't need to say anything more, but she couldn't. After telling Brittany everything, she _wanted_ Brittany to say something, it was just she didn't expect her to be able to. She rested her own hands on Brittany's shoulders. Brittany's eyes were squeezed shut in the effort of trying to think and communicate what she thought in a way that Santana would also understand.

"I saw my life pass before my eyes. It was a very short movie, and you were in every scene." Brittany said, finally.

Santana pretended not to mind. She could almost pretend that they were playing a guess-the-movie-quote game rather than trying to share an important moment. _Almost_.

"Sweet Valley High?" she asked.

Brittany tried again. "A heart is not judged by how much you love, but by how much you are loved by others."

Santana frowned a little. She remembered it, but it wasn't from a DVD that was on their usual cycle. That at least meant it wasn't anything Disney. Then it came to her.

"Wizard of Oz," she said, sure of it.

Brittany's eyes snapped open and her face flushed with the effort. Santana knew she had to lie now, and say it was okay. She had to tell her that she understood what she had meant to say anyway. She didn't know what Brittany thought of what she'd _actually_ said, she didn't know what is was Brittany was convinced that she _hadn't_ said. But Santana at least knew Brittany probably wanted to say that Santana was important to her, even though she'd done those things. She could interpret Brittany body language pretty well by now. That was the main thing anyway, wasn't it? The main thing was that someone cared.

Hearing Brittany make a little whine in frustration, Santana worried she'd have a meltdown from thinking so hard so she started to tell her that other people's words were more than enough. Before she'd had the chance to get far, Brittany interrupted her, her speech hurried as if she was trying to snatch the words before they could get away from her.

"I know that I don't know a lot about people, but I know a lot about you. I could write a book about you…well I could if I had like a really long scroll or something because I don't know how to turn on a computer anymore because we got rid of our old one and I haven't figured out the new one yet. I notice you. When all the others are looking at Quinn or Finn or even whoever is talking, I'm looking at you because you're my favorite. You're the only one I can see, you're the only one that makes sense. You're the one I want to know everything about, from you're favorite cereal to what you really feel inside. Those details about other people don't mean much to me because they don't fit anywhere inside my head and I can't understand them."

Brittany realized she was repeating herself but she didn't care, "You're the only one who makes sense, and when I'm with you, the world makes sense," she said enunciating each syllable carefully. "And one really important thing makes sense now; those things you just told me are why you've been so sad lately. You won't say so yourself because you don't like talking about feelings anymore, but you're not okay and I understand, and I'm here for you."

Santana looked both torn and speechless, opening and closing her mouth without making a sound. "Who said that?" she whispered, hardly daring to believe it, clutching Brittany's shoulders and leaning forward so they were only inches apart.

Brittany peered upwards at Santana through a curtain of her hair. "Me," she said shyly.

Santana just nodded over and over like one of those stupid bobble headed dogs in Craig's car. She no longer felt invisible, like she was going through her own private hell in a parallel universe beside her friend. She wasn't alone anymore. Brittany really understood. Although Brittany definitely had some weird ideas. _She thinks that she could write a book about me?_ Santana thought. _That's crazy, but I guess it's sweet too. _

Brittany wasn't finished. It was strange, but it was like a door had opened somewhere inside her and she was going to take advantage of this moment in case it closed. "You can lie to the others. You can lie to them all day and sometimes you do. You brag about getting with boys and how that's the most important thing to you, and for a while I believed you too, until I realized that when we were alone, in the times you were happy, you never bragged to me. When you're with me, you don't hide behind anything, you're just you. You don't hide behind the list or behind flirting or saying mean stuff to people. You're never mean to me, you're always so sweet and nobody even knows it. I know you Santana, that's what I'm trying to say."

Brittany paused as if she was thinking it over. "When I think about it using numbers it makes no sense, because it would be a lot easier to pretend for just one person, not the whole school, but I have to believe that you're you when you're with me or we were never friends at all and I can't handle that. You're my best friend Santana and that has to be real because otherwise I really don't know the difference between real life and fantasy at all," Brittany told her, her blue eyes sparkling with emotion.

Santana realized that Brittany's words were simple, but at the same time they seemed somehow kind of perfect. Her eyes misted over and she couldn't help the slow smile that began forming on her face.  
"Brittany…," she said and then stopped. It was just one word, but she hoped the tone of her voice conveyed more.

She'd been waiting to hear Brittany say she was her best friend for years. It was such a simple thing, but even though Brittany was so obviously devoted to her, she had never validated it with words.  
"Brittany, you're the best thing in my life, never doubt that okay? It's real when it's just us. I know you're not stupid, you're the only one who's _not_ stupid in the whole freaking school." Santana's voice was low and scratchy, thick with emotions she'd kept hidden.

Brittany looked at her with all the compassion in the world. All she could think about was how hard it must be to have to pretend to be someone else for ninety-nine percent of the people that Santana knew.

"Why do you really do it, Santana? Why do you let people hurt you? Why do you spend all your time at school being someone you don't really want to be, doing things you don't really want to do?"

To her surprise, Santana answered her. "I need to fill the quiet space in my mind," she said.

"What space?"

"You know how a little thing can keep your mind busy, Britt? Like how you can watch the ducks for hours? My brain isn't like that. It's the reverse. It's like a bottomless pit. Nothing I ever do is enough to stop the quiet and fill up the empty."

"Why do you hate it being empty so much?"

Santana hesitated, "Because then it's just me in there. I'm alone with me."

"What's so bad about that?"

A dark look crossed Santana's face. It was an expression filled with such self loathing and self hatred that Brittany felt the whole room become suddenly smaller. It was surreal, but to her, it was like all the pain in the world had suddenly centered itself in here with them. She'd never seen anything like it before. Usually people seemed kind of blank to her. It was like everything in the room was suddenly whispering to her their own sad stories, Senor Seaman missed his old family, the photos on the walls suddenly spoke volumes especially the one taken of Santana one lonely Christmas. In her imagination, even the pencils by Brittany's desk cried out from being sharpened from before when Brittany had been working on her poster.

Brittany briefly wondered if Santana's emotions seemed so intense because of what they were, or because it was the first time she had been able to see them, then she quickly changed the subject before she either lost Santana, or became lost herself. "You can't keep your mind busy by doing things that make you happy, San?"

"There aren't enough happy times. The world isn't a happy place, Britt. I don't think I'm supposed to get to be happy. The best I can hope for is for there not to be so much quiet." Santana paused. "Having sex hurt, okay? But it didn't hurt here." Santana put her hand over her heart to make her point, "It just made me feel numb and empty and I think that that's easier at least. It was so impersonal, like he did this all the time and I was just another one to tick off. Afterwards though, things were quieter than ever, and I needed you."

Brittany mirrored her, putting her hand over her own heart, trying to understand what it would be like to even for a time, to be completely numb to feelings. Brittany went to a strange place herself when she got upset, but it was like being in a hall full of mirrors that bounced feelings off of themselves and ricocheted back into her, splitting into multiple parts each time and multiplying until they were all so loud that she couldn't hear a single one over any other and couldn't tell any of them apart. They all sounded like white noise on the TV turned up to the loudest setting, or maybe one hundred TVs playing different channels at once.  
Maybe Santana was the reverse opposite of that, her feelings were all trapped inside the mirrors themselves, locked away, and only silence bounced through her hall of mirrors and deafened her in a different way.

Brittany's face was unreadable and Santana felt like she was in the twilight zone. _Isn't she supposed to be the one with Asperger's, not me?_ she thought. This whole time, Brittany had been the one being the mature articulate one with all the answers for a change. _And here I am,_ Santana thought._ I feel lost right now, and I can't even read her face. Her face used to be such an open book to me. _

Santana realized she was still clutching her heart, or at least where she hoped it was, when Brittany stood up and put her hand on top of hers. She kept it there for a moment as if she was trying to comprehend something, then she pulled Santana up carefully as if she was made of glass and guided her to her bed, sitting down beside her.

"Get some sleep," she said gently.

"But your mom…," Santana fussed.

"There's no way I could ever sleep tonight. I'll stay awake and keep watch and wake you up early enough for you to get back to your place before my mom finds you, or before anyone misses you."

Santana slumped her shoulders, "Okay. I am really tired."

"I know," Brittany said softly looking at Santana's heavy lidded eyes and shuffling closer to her, "Lie down now."

Santana was confused. Brittany's bed was small and only comfortably had room for one. When she used to stay here overnight, she'd always slept on a mattress which had pretty much been permanently set up beside Brittany's bed for her. It was long gone now. Its absence upset Santana more than it should have, to her is was just another sign that nothing ever lasted forever, and that reminded her of all the things that she had lost.

When she was little, she'd spent all her time with her Papi and also Abuela who was much kinder then. She'd had all her cousins to play with on Papi's side and she'd had lots of friends. But it didn't last. When Papi left, somehow he took them all with him. And then there was Brittany who had stayed in spite of everything, never looking at her any different.

Brittany caught her looking at the floor and shook her head. "No, no, sleep here," she swept her arm out pointing at her bed.

Santana stared at her, wondering where Brittany meant for her to lie down. There wasn't exactly room for two. Brittany wouldn't want to lay this close to her surely?

She could count on one hand the number of times Brittany had initiated contact between them herself, and nearly every time, Santana had been crying. It was hard for Brittany to accept touch, but it was even harder for her to touch other people. They were opposites.  
It was easy for Santana to touch others like it was nothing, but there were so few people that she could allow herself to receive affection from. Though, she had to admit, in her sleep and during Santana's 'secret Brittany dreams' where everything seemed so much easier, Brittany touched all the time and not just to comfort her.

Brittany impatiently gestured to her lap and Santana stared at her like a deer in headlights. _This is new_, she thought.

Misreading her, Brittany edged backward as if she were about to to move away. "It's okay I can sit over in that chair by the computer while you sleep if -"

"No!" Santana almost shouted, startling Brittany who jumped, "It's just, we've never done this before."

For a moment it looked like Santana wanted to say something else, but instead she bit down on her lip and stayed quiet.

"Come here San," Brittany said smiling at her and settling back again leaning against the headrest of the bed, "I'm not gonna bite you."

"I wouldn't mind," Santana muttered, too tired to censor herself.

"Huh?" Brittany asked.

"Nothing," Santana said curling herself around Brittany's legs and putting her head in her lap.

Brittany placed her hand on her neck and began rubbing her fingers down the fine hairs there, keeping it up when she noticed it was relaxing the other girl. Santana's eyes were beginning to close and her arms unconsciously hugged Brittany's legs closer to her.

"There's no one like you Brittany, I'm so lucky to have you," Santana whispered, letting sleep overcome her.

Brittany waited until she was snoring lightly before she started up talking to her again. She decided that if this new ability to speak her mind was a tonight only deal, then she was going to get as much out of it as possible.

"Santana, I don't know what it's like to feel empty like you do. Sometimes I think I feel nothing at all but then I just realize I don't know how to name what I'm feeling so it just remains a kind of abstract big thing inside me," She paused, "I feel that right now and I don't know why. I felt it as soon as you said you had sex tonight. I feel it even more now we're so close." Brittany leaned her head back, deep in thought, contemplating this quietly.

Twenty minutes later, Santana started incoherently mumbling something, and Brittany leaned closer to her to hear.

"There'sapolicecarinthedriveway," Santana said pouting in her sleep, and burying her face into Brittany's thigh.

Brittany giggled and smoothed her hair off her face, pausing when Santana stirred again.

"Why are the police here Santana?"

"It's the cops. Head out of the heights. Banana cream pie."

Brittany wrinkled her nose and cocked her head to one side.

"When did you steal a pie?" she asked. Banana cream was Brittany's favorite She liked to pretend different types of pie had voices. The meat pie was gruff sounding like a wooly mammoth, the apple pie sounded like a mashup of Justin Bieber and this one waitress at Breadstix, and the banana cream sounded a little bit like Santana's beautiful voice, like it was always singing and never talking. Brittany never missed a chance to play with her food.

"Mmmmm," was Santana's response, following it up with a few incoherent Spanish words that were most likely curses, and another rant about the police.

"San, don't worry about the police, they're more interested in arresting Lord Tubbington for fraud, especially after his last Ponzi scheme. I still can't figure out how he got people to invest in a company called PowerToAllCats," Brittany said, referring to her cat's bad behavior on the internet, sending mass scam emails while she was at school.  
Santana didn't respond. Hearing the sound of Brittany's voice, her face had relaxed and her breathing had evened out again. Brittany smiled at her and pulled a blanket around her shoulders and settled back down comfortably to keep watch.

* * *

Hours later, while lost in thought, Brittany snapped to attention when Santana moaned and wriggled in her lap in the midst of a nightmare.

"Santana," Brittany hummed out the syllables of her name in song, trying to wake her without scaring her. "San… honey wake up," she murmured cradling her body against her.

Santana started awake and clutched at Brittany. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Don't leave me," she cried desperately.

Brittany was puzzled. _Why would she leave?_

It took Brittany a long time to calm her down, reassuring Santana quietly each time that she pleaded for Brittany not to leave her. She seemed so frightened and so convinced of what she was saying.

When the moment finally passed, she lay spent in Brittany's arms.

"What did you dream about?" Brittany said softly.

"The world ending," Santana muttered, "everyone left then the world crumbled down on me. It was horrible and almost beautiful, all at once. There was destruction and fire everywhere and ghosts walking around with pieces missing out of them."

"That must have been scary." Brittany's tone was sympathetic.

"That wasn't the worst part," Santana said passionately, "the worst part was when everyone just built everything all up again and kept going, like nothing had even happened. Like they didn't even care about what they'd lost."

"Where was I?" Brittany asked.

"You weren't there," Santana bit her bottom lip, "Where were you? I couldn't find you."

Brittany smiled, "I was right here all along. I was with you, watching your world crumble and not going down with it so I can be ready to help you build it back up when you're ready, when you're ready to see that your world can be beautiful again."

Santana shook her head, "That's the thing. In my dream, they kept going, but they never rebuilt the world as nice as before. It's like when you crack a vase and try to glue the pieces together. You might put it back on display, but it's still broken, we just pretend it isn't."

She looked hard at Brittany. "People are like vases. Why even bother putting people back together when they'll never be the same. They'll never be any good again. Why did the people rebuild the world when they were only going to hate what they saw because it could never compare to before?"

Brittany squeezed her hand. "Remember when we were seven we glued your mom's expensive vase back together before she got home because even though you'd bragged to all the boys about not caring that you broke it, you really were afraid of what she'd say?"

"We did that?"

Brittany giggled. "Yeah. Well… I thought that it was a boring vase to start with. Boring and brown, like nothing special. After you broke it, it had interesting patterns and I liked it better."

"My mom threw it away. She said it was ruined."

Brittany rose from the bed and fished the object out of her closet. "And I saved it. I didn't tell you because your mom went crazy that day and I didn't want to remind you."

"You saved it?" Santana whispered, staring at it as if it was a figment of both their imaginations.

"Yeah, I didn't like it before, but afterwards, I did, because nobody had one quite like it. We didn't put it back together exactly right and it kind of turned into art. And I think if you were to put a person back together in a different way, that wouldn't be so bad either. Maybe they'd be more fragile, but the cracks made it unique and special. And not everyone starts out as boring as that vase anyway. Some people are already great to start with but maybe if they've been broken they have something to offer that can only come from people like them, because now they're different, and you told me that being different isn't bad, Santana. It's… just… unicorn," Brittany said, realizing in the moment how true that was.

There were lots of people at her school, many of them all the same, content to follow the crowd. Most of them were mean, the others like sheep and trying to all do the same thing. Brittany didn't mind that they didn't like her very much because she didn't like them either. She only wanted the special, irreplaceable people in her Unicorn club, and to be truly irreplaceable, they had to be different. And even though Santana tried not to be different and was always pretending she didn't have her own glittery horn, Santana _was_ different and Brittany had always known it, right from the start.

Santana was quiet for a moment, then placed her hand over her heart as she had done earlier, though this time in place of the words of love she really wanted to say.

"I don't want you to ever leave me Brittany. You won't forget me like all the others did, will you?" she said. It wasn't panicked or sad, it was just there, a plea intended to say a million words that could never be said.

Brittany mirrored her and then crossed the spot in promise.

"I would never. I'll never leave you Santana. And, I'll never forget a moment I spent with you."

End of Part 1.

* * *

**3 Things:**

**1. When I first decided to write this I thought I might just start at Brittany S. Pierce, age 16 as she will be in the next chapter to tie in with Season 1. I'm glad I changed my mind and included this massively long backstory now. :)**

**2. I cried the whole way through writing this, it is hard to be brave enough to hit the 'add chapter' button sometimes even though I've never been quite as afraid to share my feelings as "Santana." **

**3. I wish I could say Brittany would always be that coherent and Santana would always be that open. But it doesn't work like that, when you're learning a skill there are always so many hits and misses before you get it right and learn how to use it properly. The first times you succeed are often flukes and the start of a journey, not the end. **

**I've probably said it before but in real life, most people don't really get me. Even people that like me, still don't always actually understand me. I'll meet someone and think I've made a new friend until I open my mouth and say something random and then it's over. **

**I know that you guys are unicorns because anyone who has made it through over 50k of any story, has to have connected with it at least a little bit. And I know I'm different and maybe not to everyone's tastes and that therefore this story is too, and it's only a true unicorn that can appreciate and connect to something different. **

**This story finds unicorns. :)**

**It has found…43 to be exact if you go by story alerts. And I see 21 favs, those people must all be the Unicorn Club's vice presidents. :P "Santana" herself still reigns as president. I don't know if those numbers are any good by other writers standards, but they look good to me! **

**As always, I'm hoping to hear what you all think. :)**


	10. Stop The Violence

**Lil sis (sorry, I don't know what else to call you) - I can understand that, I know most people would probably rather see Brittany as the smart articulate version she is sometimes in the show, and ignore the side of her that forgets how to leave a room. I guess I wanted to bring credibility to the character because i'm both sides and I wanted to show how what seems like an unrealistic character, could actually be real. :) Anyway, you're awesome for being a great sister, it's never easy for siblings of people with disabilities. Your brother is so lucky to have you. Thanks for reading. ****Ps. I definitely plan to reveal the current status of me and "Santana" to present date, but not til the end. **

**Puff614 - Wow. I so never realized that remembering everything is a burden as well. I only ever tried thinking of it as a gift before, but you are so right. It's a burden, because other people get to move on from Brittany and she never gets to do the same. And, like you said, there are some little things that nobody needs to remember. I think bullying is a good example. A few slushie facials would be good to remember so you know how other victims feel, but you don't want to remember hundreds of them, those memories are ones you really want to fade over time. ****Thank you so much, I get so much out of writing this stuff down, especially when I get comments like that, because you can't put a price on having your life suddenly make more sense. It's good to know the reasons why things can be so hard. Also, I know Brittany would totally love to hug you back and be your friend. :) ****Ps. Your sheep pillow pet is very welcome and I got a huge kick out of imagining horns being taped to stuffed animals. :P **

**xoxo - That's actually really true, out of every single moment there ever was, it was actually that one that Santana needed Brittany to come through for her the most. It didn't exactly change the course of Santana's own life but it was probably the 'sliding door' moment that made sure that she brought Brittany with her. As always, thanks for reading. :)**

**Taeblancaxoxo, ****chanismith. kolman****, **Orange-Green - Thanks for much for all the kind words and for supporting me and this story! I'm so glad you like it. :)

**prattle01 - Thanks so much! Haha, I love all those bitch slaps all round. I can say now that neither Brittany nor Santana ever see Ben again. He fell out with Tomas and never came back to that house, and because we don't know what happened to him, punishment ideas seem wide open. We like to imagine he's in jail or was captured by a businessman with a very dark specific fetish. I can't say (yet) what happens to Tomas, but I can say that the chapter after this one is a happy one. :) **

**I might do a few 'infinite playlists' every now and then. I mostly picked songs from Glee (with a couple others thrown in), because at least everyone here has probably heard them at least once so I won't be leaving anyone out. The quote from the song is the part that reminds Brittany of Santana. I went with songs that suit this part of the story. **

* * *

**Chapter 10 – Stop the Violence. **

**Brittany S. Pierce, Present.**

_**Santana and Brittany's infinite playlist, Disk 1. **_

Sometimes using other people's words is okay, so long as you have your own too. An infinite playlist, the soundtrack to our lives, played inside my head every time I looked at her.

**Fix you - Coldplay – **_When you get what you want, but not what you need / I will try to fix you. _

**I'll stand by you – The Pretenders – **_Nothing you confess, could make me love you less. I'll stand by you. _

**Ben – The Jackson 5 - **_I don't listen to a word they say/ And you my friend will see you've got a friend in me._

**Shake it out – Florence and the Machine - **_It's hard to dance, with a devil on your back._

**True Colors – Cyndi Lauper - **_You with the sad eyes, don't be discouraged, oh I realize, __It's hard to take courage/ Your true colors /Are beautiful, like a rainbow._

**The Hokey Pokey-** _Now put your tongue in, and your tongue out, you do the hokey pokey and you turn yourself around, that's what it's all about._

**Anywhere – Evanescence - **_I have dreamt of a place for you and I. No one knows who we are there/ Forget this life, come with me, don't look back you're safe now. __Unlock your heart, drop your guard, no one's left to stop you._

**The Rainbow Connection - **_Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection. The lovers, the dreamers and me._

* * *

**Brittany S. Pierce, age 16.**

Predictably, Quinn went from protégé to captain of the Cheerios. With it came longer training hours and more responsibilities, which meant Santana saw her a lot less than usual. Santana knew Quinn was always going to be the one make captain, but she couldn't help feeling pissed. _Why did Quinn always have to be everyone's golden girl?_ _She never has to give up anything to get ahead like I do,_ Santana grumbled.

At least Coach Sue now realized what a deadly weapon she had in her trio. She selected Quinn, Santana and Brittany to star in the majority of their routines. She also handpicked them for her recon mission against her number one enemy, Will Schuester, and by extension his Glee club. She insisted that all three girls join the club as spies.

At first, Brittany was giddy with excitement. She had immediately started raving about how much spy equipment they already had.

"_Coach Sue! We won't even need to buy a thing for this mission because we have these recording devi…" _

"_Brittany," Santana hissed, nudging her in the ribs, "I threw all that stuff out years ago. Stop embarrassing us both." _

_She looked at Sue. "Sorry about Brittany. She gets confused sometimes. No way are we such lame dorks." _

"_A shame," Sue said, "I'd admire anyone who pulls out all the stops to bring down an avid user of the Pomade styling solution which should have been outlawed upon Elvis's death, god rest his soul. Not only do I resent the smell of beeswax and lard in the morning, but I fear he might use the power of it to attempt to bring back ducktail hair and that, my young half baked yet vaguely alluring potential ex-resident poets of a certain Greek Isle, would be a crime."  
_"_You," Sue gestured to Brittany, "might even remind me of a young Sue Sylvester, though perhaps only of one stoned out of her brain during a Woodstock concert."_

Brittany had perked up during the mention of a ducks tail, but after feeling Sue's eyes upon her, she had looked back down at the floor at Sue's white Adidas trainers. Days later, she still couldn't get what Santana had just said out of her head. She knew Santana was lying. She knew all their stuff was boxed up in a chest in Santana's room. Why would she lie? And when did having fun become lame?

Spy stuff or not, they had agreed to spy on the Glee club and were accepted in with next to no effort, at least compared with how they'd had to force their way into the Cheerios.

Coach Sue definitely seemed to have some kind of grudge against one Will Schuester, their Spanish teacher, and now Glee club coach. Santana wasn't the greatest fan of him either, but she didn't hate the guy. As for Brittany, the minute she saw him she was convinced that he had to be the lovechild of lesser known Muppets: 'Guy Smiley' and 'Don Music.' Apparently, Mr Schue had inherited Guy's eyebrows and Don's voice. Santana had no idea what kind of trippy retro children's channel Brittany had been watching lately but she couldn't help giggling at Brittany's comments about Mr Schue's 'parents'. Apparently everything their teacher did reminded her of at least one of his 'dads'.

Brittany kept asking Mr Schue to teach her the alphabet, but got discouraged when he didn't seem to have any anthropomorphic letter friends on call waiting to help her sound things out like on his dad's learning show. He wouldn't even bring M and N to talk to her. She'd always had trouble with just those two letters because she thought they were too similar. When she thought too hard about it, Brittany often mixed them up and ended up coming out with strange words like 'emeny', 'imfany' and 'nomkey'. The rest of the alphabet was fine though, it got easier after that. O was the capital of Oklahoma and S was the capital of Santana. She liked the letter S and always made sure she included the initial of her middle name when writing her name, because it brought her closer to Santana. Even though she knew it was silly, she liked sharing Santana's capital. She liked any way they got to be the same, or have the same things.

Santana loved the idea of Glee club, though she would rather be tortured than admit to it. She half attempted to maintain an air of uncaring during practice, making sly digs at Berry the singing hobbit, or lewd jokes about Mr Schue and his ginger-stalker, but most of the time she didn't even bother. Santana secretly loved having a place where she could spend time with Brittany without having to put on a big act for other people. Santana didn't bother wasting her bragging on people in that room. The only people she had to worry about in Glee club were Quinn and Finn and they were usually too busy sucking face to notice anything else.

Brittany loved it just as much back. In Glee club, Santana was hers again. Brittany couldn't wait until 4pm to come around, because that's when Snix went home, and her Santana headed off to practice with her in the choir room.  
So long as they were there, Santana would smile and laugh with her, sitting practically in her lap while they studied new sheet music. She'd even dance with Brittany during songs sometimes, her eyes shining, pure happiness radiating out of her. It was Brittany's favorite part of the day and she secretly hoped it it was Santana's favorite part too.

Both girls were yet to have a solo, but it was clear Santana could sing. She delighted in showing off just before rehearsal started, declaring her raspy tones too hot for this small time club. This usually earned her a look of contempt from Rachel Berry which she was always happy to return.

Brittany was too shy to sing by herself at all. Mr Schue was always trying to encourage her, but she didn't want to talk to him right now because he told her he didn't know all the words to The Rainbow Connection and that just wasn't Muppet.

The drawback to Glee club was that it made them more conspicuous, and not in a good way. As Cheerios, they'd been untouchable, but Glee club worked against that, getting them noticed and judged for their bold choice in being seen with losers. Brittany had previously gone unnoticed by almost everyone for the most part, living in Santana's shadow.

Everyone assumed that they hung out together _because_ they were similar. Every experience Santana had, every date she went on actually went twofold because every time Santana was sighted making out with someone in a dark corner of a cinema, it was assumed that Brittany was elsewhere doing the same thing. People always assumed, and filled in the blanks of their minds the way they wanted to. In actual fact, Brittany was more likely spending her Friday nights watching One Tree Hill with Lord T and Senor S. It wasn't Sweet Valley High, but she was hooked anyway.

Because of Glee, Brittany suddenly found herself suddenly under more scrutiny, especially when Santana wasn't with her. At the same time, she was finding classes more difficult, especially English. Now they were in the higher grades, Santana didn't have as much time to translate their homework assignments into Brittany-friendly language. She barely had enough time to get her own done. The best she could do was to let Brittany watch her do hers.

They had always held hands while doing their homework together. They would cram themselves into one chair at Santana's desk and sit side by side, taking advantage of the fact that Santana happened to be left-handed, and Brittany right-handed. If Brittany sat on Santana's right side, then they could hold hands between them and still write at the same time. They'd done it this way since they were kids, but now holding Brittany's hand had suddenly taken on another purpose altogether for Santana. If she forgot to tether her, Brittany would forget to keep watching how Santana answered homework questions or structured her essays.  
These days she was losing all focus more frequently, and forgetting what she was supposed to be doing. When that happened, she would get up and wander around the room looking at Santana's things or flop down on the bed dangling her feet in the air and she would try to start up a conversation about anything from bunnies to Mr Kidney, their janitor at school. It was easier to just keep her tethered, and it wasn't like Santana minded getting to have her that close, the worst part was when she finally had to let go.

Brittany was finding that the ever increasing workload with the huge variety of topics wasn't working for her. When something didn't interest her, it seemed impossible to focus and learn pages of information on it. In contrast, when she was fascinated by something, Santana had to actually force her to stop working on it, which was easier said than done. When Brittany liked something, she'd spend hours finding out everything there is to know about it, often staying up into the night to read about the subject by torchlight, sending Santana informative texts at all hours of the morning.

But when it came to subjects she didn't like, Santana had to be creative in her ways to get Brittany to keep still. During one really difficult essay on the Reformation, Santana had called Brittany over and got her to sit between her legs, pinning her there and keeping one arm around her waist while she wrote. Brittany really wanted to focus, but it was like something was barring her from it. Santana could see how hard she was trying, though it pained her to watch her friend run her hand up and down the pages trying to take it in. It pained her even more to know that after Santana left, that was when Brittany would have to try to start and finish her own essay. Santana wished she had the time to stay and help her do her own. She also wished that Brittany's abilities would even out a bit. Last week she'd managed to recite to her the history and evolution of dance and how they differed in other countries in great detail, but when they came to talking about Ancient Mesopotamia for another class, Brittany just looked at her blankly.

Santana was getting a reputation a the 'smart slut' and Brittany was fast becoming the 'dumb slut'. The later term when applied to Brittany, made Santana see red. She hated people calling Brittany that more than anything.

* * *

Today, Brittany had written a short story to hand in based on the novel they were reading in class, Shakespeare's Othello. She was desperately hoping she would finally get that elusive C minus. The teacher had failed every piece of work she'd written this year, even though she'd written it with a boring old black pen instead of her crayons. She was sure she'd done it right this time because her teacher had said she wanted her to write a 'different interpretation' of the text and Brittany had worked hard on it. She'd written a scene from the perspective of a cat, translating the Shakespearian world into a feline one.

Brittany clutched her paper to her chest, bouncing on her feet, waiting in line for their teacher to grade it. When it was her turn, her teacher skimmed it, taking a lot less time than she had on the other papers. She graded it almost instantly, putting a large red F in the corner.

"Why?" Brittany asked in a small voice.

The teacher shook her head, she wasn't going to bother with a girl like this. "Sit down, Brittany," she said.

Brittany did, but she put her head on her desk for the rest of the lesson. The other students snickered. Brittany had to be the only one who had a perfect academic record of getting Fs. Brittany felt their stares on her and felt ashamed, and at least two times more conspicuous than usual. She wondered if maybe it was because had suddenly grown bigger than everyone else in the room like Alice in that Disney movie, Alice in Wonderland. Obviously her brain hadn't grown with her though, it had clearly shrunk. She didn't remember having _this_ much trouble in school ever before.

After class during break, some of the Brittany's classmates were talking about Brittany's latest F. Their only mistake was that it happened to be in earshot of Santana, who was scouring the cafeteria for something that looked vaguely edible.

"That girl Brittany? She's the dumbest person in our grade," Finn Hudson said, "and I'm not the brightest one of the bunch, but she's something else."

Before he knew it, he was being slammed up against the wall by a tiny person with jet black hair who was surprisingly strong.

Santana was breathing hard as she regarded him coldly. She'd been seeing a lot more of him now that they were in Glee Club together and he was hardly someone she wanted in her face.

"You just insulted my girl Brittany. I assume you don't like your balls anymore because I'm about to cut them off and feed them to you."

He gulped. "Come on," he tried to reason with her, "she does say some really stupid things sometimes."

Santana exhaled once, and then slammed him against the wall again. Her eyes were calm and seared through his.

"If I ever hear you say anything like that ever again…," she warned.

"You'll what, you'll beat me up?" He couldn't help a bubble of laughter that burst out of his throat. She was so little, what did she really think she could do to him?

Santana clasped her hands around his throat, smiling as his eyes bulged out and his face turned red. She clawed at his neck with her long nails until she had drawn blood.

"No Chubbalito, you useless hulking posterboy of the worlds fattest Bovini tribe. If you bully her again, or if you try to ruin her in any way…then make no mistake I…," she pressed her fingers into his jugular vein threateningly, "I will kill you."

Leaving him, Santana ran off to find Brittany, her lunch forgotten. She looked in all her usual haunts, the janitor's closet, under the bleachers and in any other tight spaces she could find. Brittany was always a hard person to locate because she was the sort of girl who could be anywhere, she could have even easily crawled under any of the teacher's desks to hide out. Maybe she had found a new tiny space in a corner between the wall and the lockers. Santana sighed, she knew she would never find her then.

She spotted her by accident in Miss Pillsbury's office. She barged her way in, ready to put an end to any harassment by this ginger ninja who had evidently managed to somehow lure Brittany here without Santana's permission, but halted in front of them when Miss Pillsbury put up a hand.

"This is a private conversation, Santana," Miss Pillsbury said firmly.

Santana looked at Brittany, wondering if she'd really want her to leave. Brittany's chin wobbled, but she stepped closer and curled herself into Santana's side. That was all the confirmation Santana needed.

"I'm not going anywhere," she whispered to her, speaking up to inform Mrs Pillsbury that she didn't listen to aspiring orange marmosets and that it was Brittany's choice as to whether she left or stayed.

Miss Pillsbury sighed, "Brittany, do you mind if she stays?"

Brittany shook her head, viciously going from side to side. Santana's eyes narrowed. Brittany had gone mute again, obviously she was either upset about whatever had happened in class this morning, or Miss Pillsbury had said something to upset her. Or both.

"Well, Santana this is the second session I've had with Brittany, in the first we discussed her condition, which I am sure you're aware of."

Of course Santana was aware of it, but she wasn't sure how Miss Pillsbury knew. It could only have been that damn Mrs Pierce. Santana wasn't fond of the woman who had made their lives so difficult over the past few years. She was also becoming less fond of Miss Pillsbury by the minute, and it's not like she'd liked her much to start with, even before she'd started having these secret sessions with her best friend.

Santana interrupted her. "No YOU would have discussed it. Brittany doesn't like to talk about it. Leave her alone. And if you tell anyone, I will ends you."

Brittany tried to smile at her gratefully but it didn't come out right. It was sort of like the time she'd twisted her ankle and couldn't use it to pull off her ballet moves properly, except instead of her ankle it was like she'd injured her heart and she couldn't use it to make herself smile right now.  
Santana was talking like one of the tough black kids in her neighborhood again. Brittany thought it made her sound funny, but at the same time it definitely made people back off. It was also funny how Santana's 'bad neighborhood' on the 'bad side' of town was barely a few blocks from her own home._ Small towns just don't have a whole lot of town_, she thought, trying to imagine a perfect map to Santana's house, complete with all landmarks marked. She'd do anything to distract herself from this conversation. She'd do anything to stop Miss Pillsbury referring to her like she was sick and had 'a condition.'

Mrs Pillsbury blinked, stunned by Santana's fierceness, her enormous eyes seeming to fill up the whole space. Santana was right. She recalled her previous session trying to help the blonde, and how unwilling she'd been to talk about her disorder.

"_Look Brittany, here's the autism spectrum," Miss Pillsbury said getting out a rainbow colored ruler to demonstrate._

"_Everyone's on it. There's you, me, your class, Mr Schuester, everyone. We're all here somewhere. Everyone has the same traits as you, it's just you have more of them and your behaviors are strong enough for a diagnosis, while theirs aren't." _

"_Here's you," she said pointing over at the right side of the rainbow where the colors started to get blue. _

"_Here's me," she then pointed at the red zone on the left, "some people are much further into this blue area than you Brittany, you are quite high functioning." _

"_Where's Santana," Brittany whispered, mesmerized by all the colors. _

"_She's over here in the red zone with me," Miss Pillsbury said gently, putting her finger on the color to demonstrate. _

"_No." Brittany said simply. _

"_What?" _

"_You're wrong about me. This is where I am too." She put her finger on top of Miss Pillsbury. "I'm right here. With Santana. The same," she said fiercely. _

Miss Pillsbury felt the need to reassure both the girls standing in front of her. In spite of her harsh words, Santana had seemed terrified that other people would find out about Brittany's disorder, and Brittany herself had stepped back and was now standing slightly behind her, cowering and pressing herself into Santana's shoulder.  
Santana slipped her hand into Brittany's, neither of them even looking down to complete the handhold. _It was like second nature to them_, Miss Pillsbury mused. _They have such total awareness of the location of each other's bodies_. She briefly wondered what they'd been through together and took pity on them. In the past she had often shared what she'd learned in counseling sessions with Will and some of the other staff. But, this time she wouldn't share anything she had learned about these girls, and instead she would set their mind at ease.

"Of course I won't, there is such thing as patient confidentiality Santana, and my knowledge of Brittany's disorder will not leave this room," she finally said, planning to stick to it for once. "Anyway, that's not why I've called her here now, Santana. She's actually here about the bird in her locker."

"What bird?" Santana asked innocently, hoping her wide-eyed expression (which right now was surely rivaling Miss Pillsbury's own huge blinking headlights) would fool the woman.

Brittany had already told her many, many times about the egg she was hatching in her locker. Evidently, it must have hatched. Earlier in the week Brittany had found what she suspected was a goose egg in the woods, and she'd given it to the ducks to raise but they hadn't taken to it. Upset, Brittany had claimed it back, raging angrily at the ducks for not accepting it.

Brittany had shook her fist at the pond full of birds, and with one arm still cradling the egg she'd recited to them the story of 'the ugly duckling,' informing them that they'd all be sorry when this baby was hatched and grown and 'out of progress' and more beautiful than all of them.

Santana stood a distance back just watching her, unable to remind her that in the story, the 'ugly ducking' had been a swan, not a common goose. She'd just watched her friend coo to the egg as if it could hear her and she let Brittany have her moment. Brittany knew what it felt like to be the only goose in a pond full of ducks.

The blonde girl's rage hadn't lasted long though. Twenty minutes later, the ducks were forgiven, she could never have stayed mad at them long, just like she never seemed to be able to stay mad at Santana.

"We heard a noise and then found a newborn gosling in Brittany's locker and we're hoping that this situation never happens again," Miss Pillsbury revealed.

Santana shot a grin at her friend. Brittany should be proud that she'd hatched it. She'd carried the egg around in a baby sling sometimes when she wasn't at school, and had excitedly told Santana all the things they were going to do together as a family when it hatched. Brittany was sure it was going to be a girl goose. Santana wondered what Miss Pillsbury had thought of the fuzzy pink nest she'd turned her locker into.

Brittany wasn't smiling back. She was still staring at her feet. She seemed to have shrunk and closed in on herself.

"Obviously we have removed the bird and sent it to the proper animal authorities."

_Ohhh_, Santana thought. This must be why Brittany was so upset. Maybe she misses the bird? She did raise it after all. She wanted Santana and herself to be the first ones the goose saw, because that way, the goose would always follow them and know them as family. What a pity the adults got there first.

"Principal Figgins has given you one more chance. But if this happens again we will consider suspension." Her voice became more gentle. "Look, Brittany I know you didn't mean any harm, and your condition causes you to make some odd choices, but you can't have live animals in your locker. It's as simple as that."

"We'd already sorted out holes so she could breathe in there in case she hatched!" Santana defended her, before she could stop herself. She clapped a hand over her mouth. She hadn't meant to give away her innocence.

"There are no animals allowed on school property," Miss Pillsbury droned.

"Stupid rule then, dragonfly eyes," Santana muttered.

"And you Santana, if you are involved, and if there is a next time, then you will be suspended too," Miss Pillsbury finished, standing up to leave. "Look, if you two want to compose yourselves in here before your next class, then that's fine."

"No," Santana said, unable to stand the fact that everyone could see them through the glass door. "We're fine. Come on Brittany."

She grabbed Brittany's hand and pulled her out the door. Brittany stumbled after her, focusing on putting one foot after the other.

Santana didn't stop until they reached the janitors closet. She opened the door with one hand and pushed Brittany inside with the other. Brittany sank down to the floor the other side of the room, leaning against the wall, resting her head sideways on her knees which were drawn up to her chin.

"There. I'm sorry for being so rough," Santana apologized, "I had to get us in here before anybody saw us."

Brittany said nothing. Her hands shook in front of her where they were resting at her ankles.

"Is this about the goose?" Santana asked.

Brittany wrung her hands.

Santana nodded, that was Brittany speak for 'yes and no'. Obviously something had happened before the goose as well, Brittany could only take so much.

"What happened in class?" Santana asked her gently, handing her a notebook and a pen for her to write in instead of speaking. She didn't expect her to be able to speak. Once she shut down it usually lasted a while.

Brittany set the notebook down beside her and instead reached into her pocket with trembling hands and found her short story which was crumpled into a ball. She handed it to Santana. Santana winced at the sight of the F, but sat down beside her to read it.

When she'd reached the end she told Brittany sincerely, "this is great Britts. It's super creative and stuff. I would never have thought to have turned these characters into cats. But you're right, they can be very jealous animals sometimes, just like they're all 'green eyed monsters.' It was a great choice to explore the theme of jealousy in the play and I liked how you humanized the cats without making them lose their feline traits completely."

Brittany finally picked up the notepad and wrote, _I got my inspiration from Animal Farm._

"There you see! I love that book too. George Orwell is a genius. Just like you."

Brittany just pointed at the F in the corner.

"Britts, you're smart okay. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise. This F doesn't prove anything, other than the fact that one teacher is not creative enough to understand how your mind works. It just means that she has a set idea about how she wants things to be. In fact, good grades at school often only really mean one thing- that you can figure out what your teacher wants you to do and do it. You can't do that, sweetie. You aren't going to be able to sit in class, always realizing where the teachers are coming from so you can endlessly suck up to them and do everything the way they like it. Because you know what? That's pretty much what the rest of us always shamelessly end up doing. But who says that's real intelligence? That's just… mindreading. Cheating almost."

Santana paused for breath. "You've done your own thing and you've thought outside the box, and what's more, you've done it well. You're a genius Brittany," Santana repeated, "I mean it. And one stupid English teacher's opinion of you isn't going to change that."

Brittany reached for another note in her pocket and pulled it out. It was clearly a note that had been passed to her in class. It looked like it was written by a girl, unless one of the guys in their class had starting doing hearts to dot their letter i's.

It read,_ Why are you so stupid?_

"Oh Brittany," Santana said tenderly, tearing it into tiny pieces then and there, right in front of her.

Brittany pulled out the notebook again and wrote furiously. _Why doesn't anybody else see me like you do? Why? _She underlined it three times. _What if I don't graduate because I can't figure out how to stop getting Fs? Why did they take our bird away? Why won't Miss Pillsbury stop saying I'm different. What if everyone is right and we're wrong?_

A sob escaped from Santana's throat before she could stop herself. It wasn't fair that Brittany always had it so hard. It wasn't fair that Brittany didn't understand why she had it so hard either.

Brittany's eyes met hers, she looked horrified. She wondered what she had done just now that had been so mean that it had made Santana cry.

Santana patted her knee, reading her mind, "I'm not crying because you've been mean, Brittany, you didn't make me cry. I'm crying because I'm the only one in the world that knows how hard it is to be you. And you won't cry about it, you never cry at all. So I'm crying instead. I'm crying _for_ you."

Santana could hear Brittany's heart thumping a million miles a minute. She shifted closer to her so their knees were touching. Brittany's face had gone pale, and she seemed to be having trouble breathing. Santana pushed on Brittany's knees and slowly, Brittany lowered her legs so they were flat on the ground. Santana laid her head on Brittany's chest, listening to her heartbeat. It was so loud, that she feared it would beat all the way out of her chest. Santana had already felt Brittany's heart beating that fast back in Miss Pillsbury's office. Brittany had been behind her then, leaning into her and Santana had practically felt Brittany's heartbeat come through the back of her shoulder. Being in a state of panic for this long couldn't be good for her. Santana knew she needed to calm her down somehow.

"Hold onto me, Britt," Santana said, tears still pooling in her eyes. It always helped when Brittany had a hold of something.

Brittany circled her arms around her, holding on tight.

"Please cry, B. When you hold back all your tears inside, you hold _everything_ inside and things just get stuck and you don't get any better. I don't want to not hear your voice all week because you can't speak. It's just us here. I don't mind how long you cry for. I don't mind if you can't stop." Santana wasn't sure, but it had been at least six years since she'd last seen Brittany cry.

She vaguely remembered the last time. It wasn't like watching Quinn cry, or even what it must be like for Brittany watching Santana cry.  
When Brittany got upset when she was little, and if she got really worked up, she'd just completely lose control. She was never violent, but she would fall to the floor as if she couldn't hold her limbs up anymore and she'd scream as if she'd lost all control of her voice. It went on forever, and it took her hours to look and feel like Brittany again.

Santana recalled the worst time. They had only been nine years old and she'd never found out what Quinn and her friends had said or done to her, but it had sent Brittany into the worst state she had ever seen her in yet. She'd found her beneath the monkey bars, hitting her head against the ground repeatedly, all life devoid from her eyes. Santana had then had to drive away a whole crowd of people who were too freaking curious for their own good. Then she'd forced Brittany's floppy limbs into a sitting position, holding her up so she couldn't hurt herself. Brittany hadn't remembered it afterwards, but the self loathing on her face hearing Santana's side later on, had been such a strange expression on her young freckled face, though it was not unlike what Santana saw every time she looked at herself in the mirror.

Santana knew it was because of her that Brittany had vowed never to lose control like that ever again. Since that time when Santana had been stupid enough to tell her how scared she'd been that day and made things worse, Brittany had held everything inside for her. She knew that Brittany would go to any length to keep whatever took her over in those times inside, and if that meant never speaking or crying, so be it. Brittany knew she couldn't get to that point of no return, if she never started at all.

Santana wished now that she had never said anything all those years ago. She couldn't deny it, those few times of their childhood had scared her, but it scared her even more now to see this reclusive, pale and shivering version of Brittany, unable to say even a single word. She'd take any sort of meltdown over this. It would be so much better to deal with a few of Brittany's long crying sessions a year, even if one or two or them got as bad as that day on the playground, than it was to have her completely withdraw like this every time she was upset.

"Please, Britt," Santana sobbed. _This is all my fault. Everything is always my fault, _she thought_. _"Please trust me. I can handle this."

Like a dam inside her had finally burst, Brittany cried. She buried her head in Santana's hair and sobbed until she had no tears left, feeling like she was an ice cube, dissolving into liquid.

It went on for a long time, neither girl was sure how long. As they clung to each other in the dark room they both completely lost track of even the concept of time. Santana's foot eventually fell asleep but she didn't move a muscle, she just let Brittany cry. The whole time, Brittany couldn't have stopped her tears even if she'd wanted to. But, it didn't matter because things had changed. She didn't find herself screaming and forgetting where she was. She stayed here, in the present, with enough control in her body to clutch Santana tightly. She was bigger now, stronger. She swore to herself she wasn't at the mercy of any 'condition' anymore, like Miss Pillsbury thought she was. While her tears still went on forever and she couldn't help that, for the most part, Brittany felt like she finally had gained control of her emotions and her body. Getting sad didn't have to be so scary anymore. She felt an overwhelming sense of relief and calm.

"You're not stupid Brittany." Santana murmured, finally hearing the other girl's heart start to slow down.

'Okay,' Brittany said, testing her voice and finding it was once again free.

Santana wouldn't have heard it if Brittany's voice wasn't so close to her ear. She threw her arms around her. "You see? Now I get to hear your beautiful voice again. Keep talking!" She giggled when her lips vibrated against Brittany's body as she spoke.

"Santana," Brittany whispered again.

Santana gave her a squeeze around the middle to encourage her. Her hair flopped into her face from her enthusiasm. She pressed her head even closer to Brittany's chest, not caring enough to brush her hair from her eyes just now.

"I love you Santana," Brittany said softly.

Santana's face fell and she lifted her head up slowly."Keep talking," her voice cracked, "just don't say that. Please. Just… don't say that."

* * *

This week in Glee club was 'Vulnerability Week'. Brittany looked over at Santana who was practically permanently stage eye rolling her eyes, evidently trying to get across how stupid she found this theme. Brittany hoped her eyes didn't come unstuck and accidently roll all the way back into her head.

Rachel had already sung Memory from Cats and several other dramatic numbers from some other musicals that nobody had ever heard of. Brittany had clapped with the others but Santana had put her nose in the air, even though she was secretly impressed by how easy Rachel found it to put everything inside her on show like that. There was no way Santana was gonna get up and sing. Brittany had begged her to, and Santana had snapped at her because this pushing thing was becoming a reoccurring thing with her.

Even since they had cried in the janitor's closet together, Brittany had hoped that maybe things might change. They were getting closer behind closed doors, and Santana was becoming more open with her when it was just the two of them, but she wasn't letting other people in. Brittany wished that she knew that she could trust other people at school too. She wanted everyone to love her friend like she did, and she wanted to get to have _her_ Santana when they were in public, rather than just having Snix there all the time.

But, if anything, lately Santana seemed to have taken a step backwards, retreating back into her shell. Brittany had seen Santana in the hall earlier, talking to Puck, and what she'd heard had made her sad.

"_Yo Puck. You want to come over to mine Friday night right? There's a couple of other guys coming over too," she said airily whipping out her phone and scrolling through her address book, "I've got a new move I wants to try out, I call it the 'Red Sided Garter Snake' copyright Santana Lopez. Basically they're all gonna get in a pile on top of each other and make out with me, and whoever holds out the longest can get their poisonous snake on. But if you steal me some bling I'll probably pick you regardless of whether you can handle this or not." _

Brittany sighed. Santana just seemed determined to make herself more and more unhappy. She didn't know what to think of Puck. She'd known him forever but she had never understood him. He didn't seem like any old raccoon, he seemed different, but Brittany couldn't figure out how. Maybe he was better, maybe he was even worse. All she was sure about was that he was starting to hang around them most often now.

According to Santana, he looked good on her arm. Apparently, he looked good in her bed too. Brittany wished she knew what Santana really wanted. She wished she knew what would really make her happy.

Santana had refused to talk to Brittany about her first time and that night they'd spent together ever again. All she wanted to talk about was how she'd been trying out her new principle of 'get some, get gone'.

"_We're young, it's all about having fun. We're just two people passing through life, briefly making each others lives more interesting. Why fight that? As soon as you add feelings you add unnecessary drama which no one needs." _

Most of the time, Santana was back to pretending feelings didn't exist. She was like a yo-yo, up and down, here and there and all over the place. Brittany missed the raw, open and honest girl that she got so few glimpses of so badly that her whole body ached for her. She thought maybe if she tried hard enough, she could find a way to bring that Santana back more often.  
Wanting to bring her back was why she agreed to sing a solo at their next Glee club meeting. Maybe if Brittany made the best of 'Vulnerability Week' and showed everyone how vulnerable she could be, maybe Santana would too.

* * *

Santana had no idea why Brittany was suddenly fighting that obnoxious Berry for the limelight. Only last week, Brittany's knees had practically shook in fear when Mr Schuester had tried to persuade her to sing in front of everyone.

Now, apparently she was going to do a solo.

Santana had tried to talk her out of it, telling Brittany she didn't have to. She even said she would kick Mr Schuester's ass, teacher or not, if he was pressuring her.

Brittany had stood firm though. She knew she had to do this to teach Santana it was okay to share feelings. She'd spent all night trying to come up with the right song that was about an issue she felt really strongly about that made her really sad. She wanted a song that she truly identified with, and a song that made her really emotional.

When Mr Schuester entered the room at the start of Glee club, Brittany jumped up, "I'm ready," she announced even though Santana grabbed the bottom of her skirt, trying to pull her back down.

"Okay, Brittany… go for it," he said encouragingly.

"Go for what?" she asked.

"Um… just start singing your song. Brad will back you up on keyboard and Finn… go and give her a beat on the drums."

"Okay," Brittany took a deep breath and wet her lips, trying to pretend that she wasn't about to sing in front of a whole group of people.

Santana was staring at her curiously, like she was unpredictable, which was strange because Brittany thought she had to be the most predictable person in the world. She always ate exactly the same thing for breakfast even. It was Santana who was confusing, and she was never predictable and she almost never had the same thing for breakfast.

Brittany bit her lip. It was now or never.

"This is the saddest song I know. Everybody deserves to be loved and it's not fair because not everybody has someone who cares for them and hugs them so they feel safe and happy," she said and she cleared her throat and began, pretending that there was nobody there except Santana.

**I love cats  
I love every kind of cat  
I just want to hug all of them**  
**But I can't**

She threw her hands in the air dramatically, doing an impression of Rachel.

**Can't hug every cat**

She started swaying to the beat, her love of dance beginning to kick in and making her want to move.

**Can't hug every cat**

The whole glee club was staring at her, eyes wide. Finn was having trouble remembering to keep up with the drums. Santana had a lazy half smile on her face and was kind of nodding along and moving her shoulders back and forward to the beat, enjoying it.

**So anyway  
I am a cat lover and I love to run  
I'm sorry, I'm thinking about cats again  
I really lo-ove cats  
I'm thinking about cats again  
And again, and again, and again, and again **

**I think about how many don't have a home**

She teared up at that part like she always did.

**And how I should have them  
I think about how cute they are  
And how their ears  
And the whiskers and the nose**

**I just love them**  
**And I want them**  
**And I want them in a basket**  
**And I want little bow ties**

The Glee club were starting to snicker now, and Santana had stopped smiling and was glaring around at them, trying to get them to shut up, but for once they were completely ignoring her. Tina had her face buried in her hands and Quinn looked like all her birthdays had come at once. Finn was side-eying Santana warily, too afraid to look amused.

**I just love them  
And I want them  
To be on a rainbow and in my bed  
And I just want us to roll around (to roll around, round, round, round)  
**

Artie let out a loud snort and tried to turn it into a cough.

**Sorry, I'm getting emotional**

Brittany wiped away a tear in her eye. This was just so sad she thought. It was a dream for a better future and such an inspiring song.

**I love cats  
I love every kind of cat  
I just want to hug all of them  
But I can't  
Can't hug every cat  
Can't hug every cat**

All the boys were now up on their feet, except Artie who was rolling backwards and forwards. Everyone was dancing and mimicking Brittany, enjoying a laugh at her expense. Quinn was leading them and they were forming a conga line around the room. Santana was furiously hissing to everyone that she was gonna go all kinds of Lima Heights on them like never before if they didn't shut up, and Mr Schuester was waving his arms at them, trying to contain the room before Brittany realized what was going on. She had kept her eyes closed for three quarters of the song, partly from nerves and partly from trying to feel the song better. She had been so involved in the music that she was completely unaware of the commotion going on around her.

**So anyway  
I am a cat lover and I love to run  
I'm sorry, I'm thinking about cats again  
I really lo-ove cats  
But I can't hug every cat  
Can't hug every cat  
Can't hug every cat**

Brittany finished and looked around the room and was immediately pleased to see tears coming from everyone's eyes. _They were all crying over my song_!

Santana wasn't crying though, she looked pissed off and was charging at people trying to force them back in her seats, but they weren't budging. Santana was the one Brittany wanted to affect the most and Brittany didn't understand why she'd be doing what she was doing right now instead of crying with the others.

Her eyes widened when she realized that there were also shouts of laughter filling up the room. _It's not sad tears_, she thought. _Maybe it's laughing tears_. Santana and Brittany had laughed so hard together they had cried many times. _Is that what's really happening now,_ Brittany wondered. _Why are they all laughing at my sad song?_

"Did you guys want to hear the one about the poor duck who couldn't get any grapes and always had to waddle away instead?" she asked hopefully. _It was totally sad when you never got what you wanted, no matter how many times you tried to get it, _she thought.

Her question brought on a room full of absolute hysteria. Rachel and Tina were now freely choking with laughter, tears streaming down their cheeks. Artie was still grooving to the music even though it had finished a good five minutes ago, with a huge smirk on his face. Quinn was leading a discussion about how Brittany was so going to end up a cat lady.

Mr Schuester realized it was pointless. Giving up completely on restoring order to his class, he instead just sternly told everyone to leave. They all picked themselves off the floor and Santana angrily escorted them out, telling each one in turn that they were now on her list.

"When the heights comes, you won't be laughing," Santana thundered, "when you turn your back and drop your guard that's when. That's WHEN."

Mr Schuester told Santana to go as well, because he wanted to talk to Brittany alone, so the angry girl stormed out, throwing a concerned look over her shoulder in Brittany's direction. She knew she'd come back inside after she'd taught these clowns a lesson.

"I'm sorry about that, Brittany," Mr Schuester said, seeing she was near tears.

"It's okay, I hate when people laugh at me when I'm being serious, It happens a lot but I try to pretend it's not happening. I pretend that my skin is super thick and bad things can't get inside. But it still gets to me anyway," Brittany said, her chin quivering.

"You know Brittany, they only laughed because I know that song didn't show them the true you."

"It … didn't?" She asked.

"No. Because I know you can dig deeper than that song. How did it feel to see them laughing at you and making fun of you?" he asked her carefully.

Brittany frowned, "It makes me sad."

"And what else," he prodded, hoping she could elaborate.

"I don't know," she admitted.

He paused for a moment.

"And how do you feel about Santana?" he asked knowingly. He had eyes. He had seen the way those two were with each other. He had seen how they worked hard to put things in front of their hands to cover up handholds. He'd seen how Brittany was always staring at Santana even when he split them up into opposite teams.  
Santana was better at hiding her feelings, but even today, he actually feared for the rest of his kid's lives with the way she was angrily defending Brittany. Maybe he shouldn't have sent her outside, or maybe she should have at least told the others to run. It was safe to say, something was going on with that pair.

"She's my best friend," she said, "I think I love her."

"Yes, but how do you feel? What is it you love?"

Brittany looked at her shoes, and then at his shoes. They were black and shiny and professional, compared to her cute little ballet flats.

"I don't know, Mr Schue," she answered truthfully, her feelings seeming way too big to ever articulate into words and break down into reasons.

"Okay," he tilted her chin up, and to her credit she held his gaze for a few seconds before it got too much and she dropped her eyes down again, "that's what you need to figure out. And when you do I want you to sing to us again. I know you've got a big heart Brittany, I want to see it some day. I'm pretty sure it will blow us all away."

"Santana has a big heart too, it's just she won't show hers."

"Well," he smiled, "maybe if you learn how to show yours, she'll feel more comfortable allowing us to see hers."

Brittany smiled back, "That's what I thought! I hope so, thanks Mr Schue."

"Anytime Brittany."

* * *

**3 Things:**

**1. In real life I read a "very sad" poem for English class and yes I picked one about a cat, but it's Glee so why not do a song instead? To listen to Brittany's song… actually I don't think it would be a good idea to post the proper link so just go to you tube and then after the dotcom part put this: /watch?v=CheBneJ9HmA**

**I linked you to a cover, not the original, because Brittany would have done it more like this cover. :)**

**2. Teachers at school really don't know everything. Don't get me wrong, there are some amazing awe inspiring teachers out there, but then there are others that have held able people back from going forward to college or wherever they want to go. Sometimes, those red F's seriously need to be taken with a grain of salt. I was so mad when they didn't let Brittany graduate on the show! She could have found her way around the school system like I did in the end.**

**3. I really did raise a lost baby bird on school property. I never put him in my locker though.**

**Oh and being a left hander in love with a right hander, definitely has its benefits, take it from me :P "Santana's" not left handed though, I am. So I always sat on the left when we did homework together, not the right. :)**

**Next up is the chapter I've been waiting to share since the beginning... I'm already excited!**


	11. After a Hurricane, Comes a Rainbow

**As much as I loved them, I've run out of time this week to respond to all my reviews, so I'll just pick one…or two. **

**Puff614**** - It was VERY confusing when Santana asked Brittany to show her emotions and Brittany does and comes out with the 'I love you' but then Santana immediately takes her request back. ****I do understand where she's coming from (though it took me years to get it) and it seems a bit deeper than just an i-love-you phobia. ****I'll attempt to explain how she saw it: **

**Satana was very protective of Brittany's 'purity' as she always called it. In her mind, she was convinced that Brittany was very innocent and mostly did good things and that Santana only did bad things. ****Santana knew Brittany idolized and copied her and she wasn't okay with that. She thought that 'ruined' Brittany, though Brittany did not even remotely agree. ****Anyway, any time Santana thought she had 'ruined' Brittany in any way with her influence or by something she had done, she would get upset. ****In the closet, when she was trying to get Brittany to open up, she was more or less saying, "Don't be like me, be better than me. Don't let me ruin you." ****But then, as it happened, Brittany tried to involve her, by saying I love you which requires a response that Santana couldn't give, so what she meant by 'don't say I love you' was really "I want you to be better than me, but please don't involve me, please don't try to make me climb that mountain with you, I'm no good, I'll only fall down." Wow, long response there, but anyway, I hope you enjoy the next chapter! :)**

**Oh, and some cyber love right back at gracielovesyou, you're welcome, and thanks for sharing what makes you different too :) **

**And in general, thanks so much guys, I even *nearly* reached my goal last week. I thought right from the start that it would be really awesome to have about 5 reviews for each chapter so 5 x what-was-currently-10 chapters = 50 and I got to 48 last week which was pretty exciting. Thanks for all being so encouraging about my writing, it's funny to think that the longest story I wrote before this was for school, and it would have been 2000 words or less. And, of course I'm about 99% sure it got an F. :p **

* * *

**Chapter 11 – After a Hurricane, Comes a Rainbow**

**Brittany S. Pierce, Present**

It's pretty obvious that Santana was my _first_, in all interpretations of the word.

When somebody is the one to not just show you love, but to teach you of the concept of it altogether, that leaves an imprint in you that I can't describe, one that can never again be equaled by another person.

Romantically, I saved all my _firsts_ for her, whether she took them or not, they were there and some are still waiting for her.

But was I hers? What does it really mean to be somebody's _first_?

Did it really count as her first kiss from a girl, when Quinn callously used her to show off to a couple of boys she didn't even care much about? Did Tomas and Ben who never even kissed her, even count at all? What about her other superficial encounters?

Are kisses and exploration of our bodies, even the most important things?

The real, honest truth is that _neither_ of us knew what love was when we first met. I was born without the ability to innately understand emotions the same way other people could, and Santana was so neglected that she was confused about what healthy love was.

I loved Santana _before_ anybody else did. I loved Santana _when_ everybody else did, or thought they did. I loved Santana _even though_ Santana didn't love herself.

It frightened her, but Santana knew that I loved her in a way nobody else ever had before.

She thought she couldn't teach me what love is, she refused to explain it properly to me or even acknowledge it. But she did teach me. She couldn't help it, because she showed me. And somehow, I was the _first_ one to show her.

That imprint that's in me? It's in her too. It's my handprint on her heart, just like hers is on mine.

I think the most important _first_, is the _first_ time your mind connects intimately with someone your own age, and you know they feel the same way back even if they can't find the words to tell you.

It's the _first_ time someone loves you enough to make you believe even for a second, that anything is possible.

It's the _first_ glance you share, as you and the one you love lock eyes and know that to each other, you matter for the right reasons.

It's the sense that the other person feels the same way that validates these firsts, in a way things felt singularly can't.

I think that to some extent we connected in these ways as young children, maybe many times before it became obvious.

To me, those are the real _firsts_ and they are what count.

I want to share with you one more _first_ now, the day Santana opened herself up enough to really see the other possibilities between us. She moved past her fears, and trusted me to catch her if she fell.

It was only for a moment, but it was her _first_ time.

* * *

**Brittany S. Pierce, age 16**

Brittany left the choir room and found Santana waiting outside for her, her pinky already outstretched. Brittany took it gratefully and Santana used her other hand to wipe away the tears that were still falling down Brittany's cheeks. Her nose had colored to an almost angry red which was spreading slowly to her cheeks, but her eyes were alive and very much alert and focused. Holding her gaze, all Santana could think of was that she was beautiful, even when she cried, or perhaps, because of it.

"You know what song I would have done, Britt, if I was as brave as you?"

Brittany frowned. "I don't know," she admitted, "I guess maybe songs about world hunger and bullying and stuff about people suffering like the others did?"

Brittany guessed that was why the others laughed. A sad song about cats must not fit in with human problems.

Santana put a hand to her mouth in mock indignation. "You misjudge me, Britt. I happen to care about animals too."

"That's true," Brittany sniffled, "you love Miguel, and I caught you hugging Lord Tubbington once as if he were the last living creature on earth."

"…And I would deny that at gunpoint," Santana said firmly, still keeping her tone gentle. Her hand came to rest on the side of Brittany's head, smoothing down her hair and hooking it behind her ear. She repeated the action several times, stroking her hair long after it was already secured in place.

"What's that song about unicorns?" Santana asked suddenly, "that one where they don't get on Noah's ark and they all just cry and float away. You know, the one you want played at your funeral? I'd have sung that."

"Oh. Yeah, that's the saddest song of all time," Brittany said somberly, "I didn't sing that one because I didn't think Glee club could handle it."

"Mmm," Santana hummed. _More likely they didn't deserve to hear it_, she thought. Santana sung a few bars. "You'll see green alligators and long necked geese, some humpty back camels and some chimpanzees, some cats and rats and elephants, but sure as you're born…"

Brittany joined her. "You're never gonna see no unicorns." Santana was definitely a unicorn, she thought, though she sometimes forgot that she was. On the night she had spent in Brittany's bed, Santana had said that she thought she was losing herself, but she'd also said that she knew that if anyone could find her, it was Brittany. Brittany knew she would just have to be the one to keep bringing her back every time she forgot, and lost sight of her own horn. There were hardly any unicorns at their school as it was, Mckinley couldn't afford to lose her.

"You're right, that song is so depressing. What was Mr Schue thinking anyway, making us get our sad on all week?" Santana grumbled.

"Will you sing it at my funeral San?" Brittany asked randomly, still enthralled with Santana's singing. Santana had such a beautiful voice.

Santana inhaled sharply, "I don't want to be alive if you're not, Britts. If you go, we both go."

Brittany nodded, her face gravely serious.

"Damn you Mr Schue!" Santana fumed, "look what he has us talking about!"

Santana knew she had to turn this around. Brittany still found it hard to switch between emotions and she still tended to get stuck in one for days. Santana had to snap her out of it, and fast.

Brittany didn't question Santana's outburst, in fact she wasn't even looking at Santana's face, she was just staring at her sneakers and what she could see of her socks. Brittany had chosen Santana's socks for her today. Santana let her pick out any ones so long as they were only ankle length and nobody could see them.  
In tracksuit weather, she usually let Brittany choose long ones, as they were mostly covered by her pants. Santana just hoped that nobody asked her to take her shoes off at any point today, because then she would have to reveal 'Little Miss Sunshine' print socks, a gift from Brittany last Christmas. Brittany always wanted to pick out hair accessories and bracelets for her friend to wear, but Santana always cringed at her choices, saying that many colors together should be illegal. Socks, had officially become their compromise.

While Brittany was distracted and staring at her feet, Santana took the opportunity to reach into her bag and get two Pringles out of the tube she had bought from the cafeteria vending machines. It was always a good idea to always have Pringles on hand for moments like these. She checked all around her to make sure the hallway was completely clear, before putting them in her mouth and nudging Brittany.

"Look Britt Britt," she said smiling through her pretend Pringles duck bill.

Brittany giggled and the storm in her blue eyes seemed to clear up considerably, but not enough. Santana knew she'd have to go for broke. She could do a perfect duck impression when she wanted to, and the few times she had done it, Brittany had been completely in awe, especially as she was not able to make any duck sounds herself.

Santana started talking to her in her duck voice. "I'm a duck and I love you Brittany," she said, struggling to think of what a duck would say if it could talk.

That kind of imagination was more Brittany's department.

Brittany started clapping and burst into a fit of laughter, throwing her arms around Santana's neck. She loved Santana's impressions, but mostly she loved the fact that Santana was usually more open with her when she had a 'beak' to hide behind.

Santana quickly ate her 'beak' before anyone could catch her in the act of doing something so silly. She embraced her friend breathing in the scent of her shampoo. "You know Britt, they're assholes. They don't know a sad song when they hear it. And, I didn't know you could sing like that. I was really impressed," she told her, as they walked down the hall together hand in hand.

Brittany smiled. She was so glad that Santana had liked her singing, even if the other people in Glee club hadn't. "What are you doing tonight," she asked to fill the silence.

"Um… Puck. Or was it Matt this time?" Santana said crinkling her nose.

Brittany sighed. According to the song, Puck was responsible for the unicorns not being on the ark in the first place, or at least he was back when he was called 'Noah'. He was definitely trouble. Most recently, Brittany felt like he should take a fair amount of the blame for all the times Santana lost her horn. Clearly, he had an agenda against unicorns.  
She had also noticed him throwing a boy unicorn in the dumpster yesterday, which proved her point. His name was Kurt and he was the only one apart from Santana who hadn't laughed at her in Glee club this afternoon. He had sat like he was made of stone in the corner, refusing to join in the hysteria with the others, nodding at her in silent support.

Brittany supposed that in one way it was lucky that she wasn't a unicorn yet, or Puck would probably go after her as well. Brittany wanted more than anything to be a unicorn like Santana, but it was beginning to become clear to her how much she wasn't. Maybe one day she would be as smart and funny and beautiful as Santana. Maybe not. Her face fell in disappointment and she looked longingly at Santana, wishing so hard that she'd been born more like her.

Santana saw her face and backtracked, "… But I could cancel and we could hang out. I really did love your song."

Brittany instantly brightened. She was so excited, she could have jumped up and down. She might not be a unicorn, but at least her song had to have some kind of magic if it could make Santana ditch a date.

"Sure, I'll just text my mom and say I'm with Becky."

"Becky… who?"

"Becky Jackson. She's like my best friend after you. I invite her over all the time and I teach her some moves and stuff for cheerleading 'cause she really wants to be on the squad. I totally taught her how to Dougie. Oh, and she lets me cheat off her in math, so I'm not failing at those confusing imaginary numbers anymore. I guess my brain really is too literal for those, like you told me." Brittany wrinkled her nose at the thought.

Santana's eyes narrowed jealously, "Should I be worried?"

"No San, she's nice, leave the razor blades in your hair, she won't hurt me."

"No," Santana said patiently, "worried about her taking my place as your best friend. You know? Sort of like when Quinn took over Lindsay's place as captain of the cheerios."

"Oh! No, you'll always be captain of my heart, San."

Santana almost melted right there. It sounded like a cheesy line, but on Brittany it wasn't. Santana considered cheesy to be when boys were trying a little too hard to make Santana feel something. _And let's face it,_ Santana thought, _all of these lame high school guys are big on trying to extract some response from me lately. Except for Puck, he doesn't care_. Brittany was different. She said things, not because she wanted a reaction, but because they were true, and because they were exactly what she thought and saw in her mind. That fact that Santana then had reactions to the things she told her seemed to surprise her more than anything when it happened.

To cover up how moved she was, Santana gave Brittany a wicked grin and said she would race her home.

Brittany bounced in excitement, "Okay El Capitan, and if I win, Lord T and Senor S get to stay over with you sometimes, cause they've been begging like every day 'cause they think you're really cool."

Santana groaned, "Okay, and if I win, Fatty and Diego NEVER set foot in my house again, got it?"

"Got it!" Brittany shouted, dashing off and trying to get a head start on Santana.

"No way," Santana said under her breath and then took off after her, eventually catching up and throwing herself at her friend, catching her around the waist and climbing up her until Brittany was piggybacking her.

Brittany shrieked and halfheartedly tried to throw her off. "If I let you ride on my back the whole way, I'll be too tired to cross the finish line and make it through your door. You'll jump off my back right at the end and use all your saved up energy to burst through the door first. It will be like a whole new version of the snake and the hare!"

Santana laughed, "Do you mean the tortoise and the hare?" Brittany apparently never could tell the difference. Then she realized what Brittany had actually said. "Hey, hang on are you calling me slow? It's not my fault my legs are shorter than yours," Santana said, pouting.

"Aww," Brittany cooed, "that's why I'm letting you have a free ride until just past that fence post." She pointed in the distance. "That's like my penalty. Then it's a fair fight," she said positioning Santana better and supporting her under her thighs.

Santana put her head over Brittany's shoulder and wrapped her arms around Brittany's neck.

Brittany could feel Santana's chest contracting in and out against her back, she was still breathing hard from running so fast to catch up to her.

When Brittany began to near the fencepost, Santana started struggling, making herself difficult to carry so the ride would last longer. She knew Brittany wouldn't push her off early. Once she made a rule, she always stuck to it no matter if it was practical or not.

"San," Brittany giggled, "do you have to pee or something?"

"Nope, just trying to…," she never got the sentence out because Brittany had reached the fencepost_. Damn those long legs_, Santana thought.

"Okay, dismount!" Brittany called.

Santana giggled and held on tight.

Brittany began gently shaking herself, like she was a duck shaking water off its back and Santana held on tighter almost cutting off Brittany's air supply. "Come on San," Brittany called.

"I don't wants to," Santana said, and Brittany could tell she was still pouting, more so than ever.

Brittany began shaking harder, so hard the two of them fell down into the grass laughing.

Santana rolled them a bit further away from the road so they wouldn't become today's roadkill.

Santana ended up on top of Brittany and began tickling her. Every spot was Brittany's 'tickle spot' and pretty soon she was begging for mercy, unable to tickle Santana back because not ever in the entire time Brittany had known her, had Santana ever been ticklish.

Santana loved how relaxed Brittany was. This was so different to how she was with other people, Quinn had touched Brittany's shoulder this morning to get her attention, and Brittany had flinched _so_ hard. All the tenseness was completely gone from her body now, and Santana was sitting on top of her, basically tickling any available spot Brittany hadn't got currently covered with her hands.

"Okay, San I give! You can have anything you want!"

Santana regretfully slid off her smiling and extended a hand down to her to help her up. "I already got it," she said, "you were so sad today and I wanted to see you smile like that."

"Oh…," Brittany looked at her, her face breaking into an even wider smile, "so the race is still on?"

"Santana Lopez never backs down from a fight," she agreed, nodding at her, "I should warn you though, I've never lost any kind of fight yet and I'm not about to lose this one. Growing up in Lima Heights Adjacent teaches you to be tough, it teaches you endurance. I could put every one of those athletes on the track team to shame, just with the amount of attitude I have in my pinky which propels me along faster on sheer will alone."

Brittany nodded along, letting Santana have her psyching up moment, "I'm just looking forward to seeing Miguel again, I've really missed him."

"He's missed you too," Santana said softly.

"You ready?" Brittany asked sensing Santana was getting uncomfortable.

"Yep."

"Okay. Ready set GO!"

* * *

Brittany ended up winning anyway, by a long shot. Santana totally had the right attitude, but she couldn't compete with Brittany's long legs or endurance won the hard way by grueling dance practice sessions. Brittany easily made it to Santana's house in record time, then struggled with the key that was under the mat for a second. _Why are keys so hard,_ she thought.

Then, she sat inside waiting for Santana for a few minutes until she burst through, puffing and wheezing trying to catch her breath.

"And that's how … we… do… it… in… Lima… Heights!" she gasped, leaning double and panting.

Brittany was concerned, "Are you okay, San?"

"I… ah…. I….," Santana said struggling to breathe, and clutching at air as she tried to keep standing.

Brittany jumped up from where she was casually sitting on a chair, and pulled Santana down, kneeling beside her and pressing a hand to her chest. "Come on San… breathe in… and out. In… and… out," she instructed her friend, rubbing her back comfortingly with her other hand. Santana had done this for her several times when they were little during Brittany's meltdowns, when she'd been crying so hard that she couldn't breathe.

When Santana finally felt her lungs filling up properly with air again, she looked into concerned blue eyes and was glad that this hadn't happened in front of anyone but her nonjudgmental best friend.

"I'm okay now…," she said. She hated losing any kind of competition, and she hated looking weak. She grumbled a few nondescript noises and pushed Brittany away gently. If it were anyone else, she would have torn them down with some sharp words just to save face.

Brittany didn't brag that she had won. She knew Santana was sensitive, so not knowing what else to say as usual she turned the conversation back to her cats. "My cats will be really happy, you know?"

Santana shrugged, not sure if she had enough air to speak.

Not at all deterred by being pushed her away, Brittany simply moved closer again and kept rubbing Santana's back because she could see she was still struggling.

Santana gave up and let her. "Well…," she said finally, still gasping a little, "I am pretty awesome. Those cats will just stare at me the whole time in wonder."

She couldn't believe she was such a pushover with this girl.

Brittany readily agreed and stilled her hand on Santana's back. "We haven't got any homework, so can we watch Sweet Valley High?"

Santana really only watched that show because Brittany liked it. In fact most of the shows she watched while she was with Brittany were for the blonde's benefit.

She was about to protest, until she saw the hopeful look in Brittany's eyes. "Sure," she said.

Brittany turned the hand she still had on Santana's back into a one armed hug, "Oh, and can Miguel sit with us?"

"No," Santana said firmly. She loved her pet but she was tired of explaining why there were turtle pee stains on the couch. Miguel tended to get excited when Brittany was over.

"Please…," Brittany begged.

"Oh my god. Okay. Fine. I was going to bring him down anyway."

Brittany leaned down and pressed her nose to Santana's. Brittany weirdly didn't seem to retain much bodyheat, so her nose and hands and feet especially, were always cold.  
Santana flashed back to ice cream Eskimo kisses with her dad. She missed her dad, but she had to admit, this was even better.  
It was also way better than last week, when Brittany had pressed Lord Tubbington's nose into hers, and then into every available part of Santana's arm. Brittany had sworn that all cats have a 'nose fingerprint' unique to them, and that Lord Tubbington wanted to leave his mark on her. Santana's nose now tingled where Brittany's nose had just touched hers. Brittany's imprint there was definitely the best one yet.

Santana realized that Brittany was still talking to her. "Hmm?" she asked.

"You're the best San," Brittany repeated.

"Well… yeah," Santana stammered as Brittany ran off to get the DVD. Her heart was racing now, and it wasn't from the adrenaline of the run. She had never lost a fight of any kind, and she had just been a total pushover with Brittany who had just bested her, what, three times? That would be grounds for Santana's 'I will end you' list in any other case.

_She got the best of me three times_! Santana repeated to herself in her head, waiting for the inevitable hot rage and fury she usually felt.

It never came.

All she had was a dopey smile on her face, and she couldn't really find it in herself to care.

* * *

Minutes later, both were curled up on the couch together. Santana was jabbing a finger at the screen informing Brittany that Todd had no game, and Brittany was shifting around uncomfortably at Santana's side before she eventually dropped down and put her head in Santana's lap. Santana ran her fingers through Brittany's hair trying to get her to stay still.

It didn't work. Brittany continued to contort herself, seeming to be unsure as to where to put her hands. Santana tried to solve that by grabbing one and squeezing it, and using her other hand to pat Brittany's head rhythmically hoping that this would finally settle her. Santana's hand brushed against Brittany's forehead and she was surprised to feel how warm it was.

"You're not getting sick are you Britt Britt?"

Brittany sighed and leaned into Santana's cool hand, "No… It's just…um…"

"What's up baby girl?" Santana asked concerned.

"IgotdirtyandIneedtoshower," Brittany said all in a rush.

"What?"

"When we were rolling around in the grass," Brittany reminded her.

Santana felt her own forehead getting as hot as Brittany's.

"It's one of my rules, I get dirty, I have to shower," Brittany said matter of factly.

"Ohhh…" Santana knew Brittany still liked a certain amount of routine in her life, even if most of her rules never seemed practical to the situation. Having rules and completing them were the things Brittany held on to as life preservers to bring some sense and order into her life. Otherwise, things got too confusing for her. "Okay, hold up, I'll let you wear some of my clothes and you can shower upstairs okay?" she offered.

"Okay," Brittany said extracting herself from Santana's lap and racing upstairs.

"Shirts are in the top drawer… shorts in the third drawer down!" Santana called, as if Brittany didn't know that already. Santana's room was the only place outside her own house that Brittany knew every inch of, except for maybe the duck pond.

* * *

Escaping from the lameness of the episode on TV, Santana wandered outside the bathroom lazily pacing backwards and forwards. She could hear Brittany talking to herself. She strained to hear what she was saying and then realized that it sounded more like singing. Smiling, she found herself pushing the door all the way open. She leaned against the wall, staring at the outline of her friend through the shower curtain, watching the shadow of the water cascade down Brittany's body as she scrubbed at herself with a loofah.

Santana starting breathing hard, she was enjoying this way more than it was okay to, and she felt like the worlds biggest pervert for thinking about her innocent friend's body, as the shadows of her form danced against the curtain. Brittany was loud enough for her to hear now, she was rapping at the top of her voice. "He cold, he dope… he might sell coke! He always in the air, but he never fly coach! He a muthafuckin trip, trip, sailor of the ship, ship!"

Santana gasped. Never in her life had she heard Brittany swear. Brittany probably didn't know the meaning of anything she was saying.

Santana began joining in softly, "…Drip, drip. Kiss him on the lip, lip."

Santana had noticed before when they were singing the unicorn song, that they sounded really good together. They would have to do the singing thing more often. When she sung with Brittany, singing seemed nowhere near as dorky as when they watched Berry.

Attitude was coming off Brittany in waves and her hands were flying up and down, doing as many gangsta moves as she could fit in with the beat.

Santana began getting in it as well and flipped her hand around and scrunched up her face, "…I said EXCUSE me, you're a hell of a guy."

"….I mean my my my my you're like PELICAN FLY!" Brittany hollered evidently wanting to say the part she thought she understood the loudest.

Santana was trying not to giggle by now. "Yes I did, yes I did. Somebody please tell him who the eff I is."

She immediately stopped rapping when Brittany turned the water off. Santana began edging her way to the door as silently as possible.

"I AM BRITTANY S. PIERCE, I mack them dudes up, back coupes up and chuck the deuce up!" Brittany announced as she flung open the curtain, catching Santana in the act.

Santana froze.

"Um… damn girl, you can rap," she stuttered wishing the floor would swallow her whole or that she'd stayed downstairs watching Sweet Valley High. That pussy, Todd. He was the reason she came up here, to avoid any more of his scenes. This was so his fault. Her heart was racing, which was only partly to do with having being caught, and a lot more to do with the fact that everything Brittany owned was on show right now and Santana couldn't bring herself to tear her eyes away.

Brittany smiled at her. "Hey San, I missed you. Did you like my song about Senor Seaman? He's a sailor of the ship looking for the super bass," Brittany said, pronouncing bass like the fish rather than like the pitch in music. "Then he got challenged by a pelican who was flying around, who also wanted the bass, and then I came in to it and I threatened to run over them both with my four-door coupe if they didn't behave."

Santana gaped. That was all she was gonna say? When Brittany was little, she had never had any embarrassment about her body and had been always throwing her clothes off at any opportunity, claiming they made her skin itchy. It was like Brittany didn't realize that other people might feel differently at looking at her body than she did looking at it in the mirror. Parents at the park were always horrified and Santana would have to hurriedly put her shirt back on when she took it off. If her mother was with them, then it was even worse because then Brittany would get a lecture as well. Santana had seen a lot of Brittany's child-body, but this adult-Brittany body was definitely a new thing, especially in full view.  
Brittany seemed to hardly even register that she was naked as she dried herself off, completely oblivious to the hunger burning in Santana's eyes as she tried in vain to stop leering. Brittany had a mild curiosity about her own body, and eventually as she noticed her friend staring, she figured that Santana felt the same.

"You wanna touch them?" Brittany asked suddenly.

"Whhha?" Santana asked wondering if she had heard right, feeling a sudden wetness between her legs. She clenched them together. _This is so wrong,_ she thought.

"The pepperoni cupcakes of course! They're yours after all," Brittany said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"They're… mine?" Santana liked the sound of that a little too much.

"Yeah, I made them out to you in a cheque years ago, remember? You're just taking a really long time to claim them and in the meantime you went out and got your own," she pouted.

Santana remembered. She kept that little piece of paper in jewellery box for years, next to her most precious items, including the ring Abuela gave her when she turned thirteen, and the dog tags Papi gave her from his brief time in the air force "I think I like them a lot better with you wearing them." She hesitated. "So I can really touch them?"

"Yep! Whenever you want! But hurry 'cause I'm getting cold."

Santana crept up behind Brittany and wrapped her arms around her from behind, hands coming to rest on her 'cupcakes'.

Brittany kept talking away to her and ran her hands up Santana's arms. "I always found them interesting too," she said.

Santana couldn't let that slide.

"It's not that they're interesting. It's just that you're beautiful, Brittany," she said using her full name like she never did.

"What do you mean?" Brittany's forehead crinkled. She ran through all the things that she'd ever heard being called beautiful before… sunsets, beaches, models, songs… that girl who belonged to that beast. She was none of those.

"I'm not beautiful," she said carefully, "I'm just Brittany."

"Yes. Exactly," Santana spun her around to face her, her embarrassment mostly gone. "Brittany is beautiful. Every last bit of you. Including these," she nodded at Brittany's chest.

Brittany's face split into a wide smile. "Do you mean it?" she asked.

"Yes, I do," Santana nodded, "as far as humans go, I hold you in very high standards, it's just you don't know it, and can't see it because you can't see you the way I see you."

"How do you know you feel that way?"

"Well…." Brittany would be the death of her. "I like looking at you, people always like looking at things they find beautiful. It gives them a good feeling inside."

"A really good feeling? Like feeding-the-ducks good?"

"Yeah, definitely," Santana couldn't bear to explain the rest to her. _Leave attraction for another day_ she thought, clenching her legs together again. _Or deny it even exists so she doesn't notice me being like this. One or the other._

She was starting to retract herself from Brittany and close up, she couldn't help it.

"San?"

Santana froze, Brittany's hands had come to rest on her waist.

"You're my favorite thing in the whole world to look at, even more than ducks. So you must be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Santana couldn't help it, she pulled Brittany back into her arms and cried. She didn't entirely know why. She just clutched Brittany's naked body to her and buried her face in her soft hair and sobbed, because everything was just so damn unfair. She had a bad feeling that she and Brittany were going to end up as just another sad story, and when she heard Brittany say things like that, it just proved how much between was still left unexplored, but maybe never ever could be.

* * *

When Santana finally calmed down, Brittany didn't ask. She had held Santana to her tightly, wondering what secret the other girl knew that she didn't. She sensed that if she asked, Santana wouldn't be able to answer. Instead, she just gave Santana's hand a squeeze as she gently released her, and put on her clothes, struggling with them until Santana came over to help her.

"You're getting really skinny, B. Haven't you been eating?" Santana asked poking her ribs as she pulled Brittany's long sleeved t-shirt down.

"Mom's been buying those evil green bananas again and it's all we've got." Brittany made a face.

Santana sighed. She could never understand why Brittany's crazy mother bought so many pickles, but that wasn't the issue. She felt like she really hadn't been taking care of her friend well enough, she'd been so preoccupied with her own stuff to remember to bring representatives of the few food groups that Brittany would eat for her each day.

"Well, you're starting to remind me of a bread stick," Santana said.

Brittany giggled. She liked those. She liked bread sticks from Breadstix, bananas, banana cream pie, spaghetti, Fruit Loops, Lucky Charms, Sour patch kids, Gummy Bears and Dots. Everything else in the world tasted kind of bad to her so she preferred to eat a combination of only those things each day if she could.

"I'm gonna call you my Brittsticks until you put on a few pounds alright?"

"Okay, then I'm gonna call you my Santana Banana."

Santana gave her a mock look of horror. "You wouldn't. What would people think?"

"That you're tasty, and they might get the idea that you're not an evil green thing like everyone seems to think?"

Santana groaned. Brittany really would be both the death of her _and_ her reputation if she was going to get cutesy names like that thrown in her direction.

Suddenly, Santana remembered what she'd actually came upstairs to ask her in the first place, "Oh! Britt Britt, do you like fireworks?"

Brittany nodded. "Yeah, they're totally cute."

"Cute?"

Her question was answered when Brittany started humming a tune, "Baby, you're a firework!"

_Oh… right, babies,_ Santana thought. She set her friend straight, "Nah, B, they're like an awesome light show in the sky, trust me you'll love them. They've got some at the annual Lima Heights festival today. It's lame, all except for the fireworks. I'll take you?"

Brittany nodded, jumping up and down, making Santana think she looked almost like a cartoon version of herself. Santana held out her arm. "Come on Brittsticks," she said grinning.

"Coming, Santana Banana!"

* * *

One hour later they were sitting on a blanket together, watching the sky. Brittany was twisting around anxiously, looking in every direction in anticipation.

"San, what if I miss it?"

Santana laughed, "Trust me B, you won't miss it, I promise."

"Okay."

They were in a secluded spot just outside the gates and behind a tree, far away from the main festival goers. Neither of them had brought enough money to get in, and Santana didn't feel like corrupting Brittany into crashing. They did however, have a great view of the sky.

Brittany was still bouncing up and down. _And_ _still humming that damn firework song,_ Santana grumbled in her head.

Suddenly, with a boom that was louder than anything Brittany had ever heard in her life, the sky lit up with red and purple lights.

"See!" Santana said, and turned to Brittany expecting to see her eyes shining with joy.

Instead, she noticed that with every boom Brittany recoiled violently. Her body was rigid and she was trembling. She was clearly terrified. Santana immediately felt angry with herself for not realizing that this would be too loud for her. Brittany hated loud noises because her senses were turned up like she was a cat… or a radioactive spider or something.

"Hey… come here," Santana said reaching for her and carefully pulling her onto her lap trying not to startle her any more, holding her close.

Brittany immediately curled her shivering body into Santana's and Santana wrapped her arms around her protectively. Brittany seemed confused and had her hands over her eyes. _That was so not the point of fireworks,_ Santana thought, _they were made to be seen, though you could definitely ignore the sound part._

Santana's hands made their way to Brittany's ears, muffling the sound to the point of it being bearable and Brittany's body began to stop shaking. Slowly, Brittany took her hands away from her eyes and then gasped at the rainbow of colors in the sky.

"Look Santana! There's a blue one!" she said, a little louder than she usually would.

Santana just laughed, relieved that Brittany was okay. Because Santana was so close, Brittany could hear her even with Santana's hands covering her ears.

"That one is totally the same color as your eyes," Santana told her.

Brittany was fixated, her eyes darting across the sky, mesmerized by each new one that appeared. They were coming more rapidly now, and as much as she loved what she was seeing, Brittany was starting to panic again and Santana knew she had to keep her calm.

"Talk to me, Britts," she said, trying to think of a way to keep Brittany talking to her, to distract her from the sound. "What's your thing of the moment?" Santana asked, struggling with finding a way to say it other than calling it a 'special interest' like it had been called when she'd looked up Brittany's disorder on the internet. "What's the thing that's taking over your brain. Is it cats and cat diseases again? Evolution of dance?"

Brittany had topics that she could talk about for hours, but there was always one at a time that stood out, completely occupying her focus.

"No," Brittany said, her eyes flickering to Santana's face, "it's you."

"Me?"

"Yeah. Those things are okay, but they're not it. It's been you for a really long time."

"Oh. Okay… then talk to me… about me?" Santana didn't know whether she was amused or scared to be Brittany's special topic, and now officially in the ranks of the infamous Rainbow Unilama.

**BOOM! BOOM! **

"Okay. Um… you're left handed. Your favorite movie is Lephrechaun and your favorite song is 'You oughta know' by Alanis Morrisette, and don't deny it because I've seen your IPOD and it's the most played song by like a mile, rivaled only by 'Come to my window' by Melissa Ethridge. Those songs show off both sides of you. Sometimes I play 'Come to my window' a few extra times when you're not around so Melissa can beat Alanis once in a while."

Santana cringed. She'd admit to Alanis in public, but not to the sappy stuff.

**BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!**

"You think I don't see you, but I know you smoke cigars. And, you're a total cake monster. You have the biggest weakness for cake. I always pretended that I didn't like it so you could eat my share at birthday parties because you got so excited when they brought out the cake and I thought it was all kinds of adorable."

Santana's eyes widened. She had no idea.

**BOOM!**

"And our necklaces and bracelets? I know you totally stole them."

**BOOM!**

"You like your coffee black. There's this little tickle spot under your knee that I know about but I've never used it because I just liked knowing it was there rather than using it against you. I didn't even use it today when you were tickling me to death."

**BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!**

"And you're afraid to tell everyone what a big heart you've got because you're too afraid that it will get broken again because you've already had to fix it so many times and you don't know if one more time will total it completely…."

**BOOM!BOOM!BOOM!BOOM!BOOM!BOOM!**

"… But really, you're the sweetest girl in the whole world. I see you, the real you. You're so special and funny. I love your duck impression and the things you say are so clever and can make me laugh like nobody can. I love the things you make and how you can tell they come just from you. You're different which means you're irreplaceable and…I…"

**BOOM!**

Santana couldn't help it, she tilted Brittany's face towards hers and she kissed her desperately, hard on the mouth, Brittany saw her. Brittany noticed her. She was the only one that ever truly had.

They broke apart for air and Brittany smiled at her. A sudden clarity had come over her face as if she had discovered something. Santana could practically see herself reflected in Brittany's eyes and she knew that Brittany was here. Right now, she wasn't locked inside her disorder, her mind wasn't in that hall of mirrors where feelings took her over. She was nowhere else but here with her.

Santana kissed her again, cupping the sides of her face, sliding her hands down from the other girl's ears now that the fireworks were over. She kissed Brittany all over, trying to make as much of this moment as possible.

Brittany closed her eyes as Santana's lips touched her forehead, her cheek, her neck, her hands. She didn't know what this feeling was, but it might be the best one she'd ever had yet. It was kind of like Santana was a rainbow and she was sliding down her. No, she was even better. She was a firework. Suddenly, Brittany understood the meaning of that song.

"Baby, you're a firework," she whispered to Santana.

Santana was loud and she was captivating and bold, just like a beautiful firework bursting into the sky. And right now, she had ignited Brittany making her feel like a firework too. It was like a thousand sparks were crackling between them making Brittany's skin burn with every touch. What was this feeling? Had it always been inside of her waiting to come out? Had she always felt this but never noticed it before?

_It's always been inside of you, you, you  
And now it's time to let it through_

"Santana," Brittany mumbled against her cheek that she was now exploring with her own lips, "I liked those fireworks, but I'll always like my Santana-firework better."

Brittany felt Santana's stomach bubbling in and out with laughter at that.

"Brittany, this has been the best day of my life," she said looking deeply into her eyes and clasping their hands together, "you're my bright light shining in this miserable stinking world."

Santana looked up in the sky, was this really what love was meant to feel like? Was this how she was always supposed to have felt with other people?

"Santana, promise me. Promise me we'll show them."

"Show them what?" Santana asked tapping her lightly on the nose.

"Show them what we're worth. Make them go OH as we shoot across the sky?"

"What does that even mean, Britt?" Santana laughed again. What did it all mean, she wondered. Could she even love Brittany the way Brittany deserved to be loved? She was so pure, so innocent. Could the child within Santana's heart, rise above to meet hers?

_Can I sail through the changing ocean tides? _

_Can I handle the seasons of my life? _

Brittany just shot her an intense dreamy look, her gaze piercing hers, waiting for her answer.

Santana's eyes roamed over her face, which seemed to glow in the dark. She traced a few freckles with one hand.

"I'm so afraid of changing things, Britt, everything I've ever had that's good in my life, is built around you." she whispered.

The minute she said it, she knew how true it was. Brittany had always been her one constant, the one thing she could always count on. How could she risk changing that? Yet, could everything really stay the same forever? Did she even want it to? Maybe they were running out of time to change with the seasons and be fluid, not stuck.

Brittany nuzzled into her, pressing her lips gently to her neck.

Santana smiled, "Look at you, Britt, you've grown up so much." She felt Brittany's mouth curve into a smile against her skin. Maybe it wasn't in all the regular ways, but Brittany had grown up. She'd made so much progress. Even though in some ways she'd forever seem like a child, in others, she'd grown older.

Brittany pressed herself still closer, and warmth seemed to envelope Santana all over. Santana wanted this. She wanted it so badly that she imagined every cell of her being was crying out for it. But, her fears were louder still. Neither of them were the same people they were before. Time was slipping away from them both. But, unlike Brittany who was slowly becoming so much more, Santana felt like time was only making her older. She feared she could never change for the better. It wasn't just time that was slipping away, Santana felt like pieces of herself were slipping away too, and the others were stuck steadfast in old habits.

In spite of Brittany's comforting heat, Santana still felt afraid. It was like for every mountain she climbed, there was always a landslide waiting to bring her down. Or maybe, she brought herself down. She felt like, if she tried to climb this mountain with Brittany, and she failed, then there would be nothing left of her, and no mountains to ever try to climb again. Her relationship with Brittany wasn't just another mountain to climb, it was her whole world.

But still, time makes you bolder.

_Am I ready to change_? Santana wondered. _Can I feel again? Can I be brave like her?_

Another firework went off, as if it had been lost in the bottom of the bag until now, and only just found.

**BOOM! **

Brittany barely even flinched; she simply smiled, tilting her head up higher to meet Santana's eyes. Her lips were slightly swollen from the force behind their first kiss. Santana drew a finger up to Brittany's mouth. _Our first kiss_, she repeated in her mind, running her finger over Brittany's lips.

It was Brittany's first time, and for Santana, it was the first time to her that it had ever really mattered.

Maybe it was the heat of the moment, combined with the heat of the electricity rushing through them both, but Santana gave in, her troubled expression disappearing as she closed the gap between them slowly, searching her as if seeking reassurance, slowly drawing her finger away and replacing it with her own mouth. It came as Brittany put a hand to her forehead, smoothing away Santana's hair and the last of her frown lines before responding to the kiss eagerly, yet slowly, as if she couldn't believe this was really happening.

Brittany didn't care if they were dreaming or not, every part of her body that Santana had touched, still burned, as if she was a bright light, capable of making Brittany brighter too. As Santana deepened the kiss, Brittany felt happier than she'd ever been before, certain now that they were headed for their perfect road.

* * *

**I'm so happy to share this part with you guys. :) I know so many people with the same disorder as me and it's sad, but for many, all they've ever known is isolation. I'm so aware of how lucky I've been to get this experience.**

**3 Things**

**1. Okay, so at the end I had the song "Landslide" represent Santana's mood and "Firework" represent Brittany's (no links because they're both on Glee!). I wanted to do that, even though the songs don't go together because it shows how different Santana and Brittany's minds are. I remember that night seemed so magical too me, I was so enthusiastic, and without much more than BABY YOU'RE A FIREWORK going on in my head. At the same time, Santana was so emotional, that she was more thoughtful. Her joy pushed her in to different place compared to where mine pushed me. It was a special night for both of us, but we experienced it in such different ways.**

**I also noticed how much this chapter seems to illustrate much we idolized each other, yet she thought so little of herself and as for me, I hadn't even worked out that I was supposed to have an opinion about myself as of yet. That came later. **

**2. The other songs aren't on glee though so here's Super Bass /watch?v=4JipHEz53sU and The Unicorn Song /watch?v=lTSE3jE_49U**

**"Santana" loved rap music in early high school. She'd teach me songs line by line, and she'd do these adorable little hand gestures. I copied those too. It only lasted until "Quinn" told her it wasn't cool, but I kept doing it all the time anyway. So she ended up walking in on me rapping in just about every location imaginable, lol.**

**3. Obviously some of the facts I pulled out when I started telling "Santana" everything I knew about her were different, her favorite movie definitely isn't Leprechaun (that's just from the show), but a lot are true. She did smoke (and still does) but I wasn't supposed to know. Oh and the cake thing is so, so true. Especially birthday cakes, she gets crazy happy at the sight of them, but unfortunately I think that's mostly because she didn't get that many of them growing up.**


	12. We Are Our Own Worst Enemies

**Miara848 – Happy Birthday for last week! I'm glad your birthday fell on such a happy chapter and I hope you got lots of cake. :)**

**KKSG – Now I don't know what to say! Thank you for seeing the best of "Brittany", I'm so glad to have reached out to you from my part of the world. :)**

**I've noticed that quite a few people with 'unicorn' in their usernames have been alerting lately, which is really awesome. **

**I've run out of time again to respond to any more, but I reached my goal in reviews this week so thank you all very much, fellow unicorns! At this point in time I have approximately 5 for every chapter and I feel all successful. :) **

**Now if only the elusive user Lord_Tubbington (I know you're out there somewhere) would follow me so I could truthfully say 'My cat is reading my diary.' Then, my life would be complete. **

**Also, I feel like this chapter should come with a warning. I wish it were as happy as the last one. **

* * *

**Chapter 12 – We Are Our Own Worst Enemies**

**Brittany S. Pierce, Present**

Tornadoes are nature's most destructive force.

I probably deserved the F I got for _that_ essay, because I went on to say that anything that powerful, has just as much potential to be both constructive and destructive at the same time.

Sort of like how each action has an equal or opposite reaction, but not quite.

I wrote about how a tornado ruined Dorothy's farm in Kansas, but it also sent her to a magical place called Oz where I'm sure there are many, many unicorns.

The worst thing, and best thing happened, all from one tornado.

Okay, so maybe I was wrong about tornadoes, but that kiss Santana and I shared was a force of its own.

The best thing and the worst thing happened, all from one kiss.

For me that night was all about hope. I thought that night was like a giant band-aid, a fix for everything that was wrong in our lives.

I guess with all that hope I was naturally bound to find the opposite; disappointment.

As for Santana, she dropped her defenses enough to finally feel joy. When she was with me, she felt like she was supposed to feel, loved and happy.

What followed?

Depression.

It's an ugly word isn't it?

Being depressed is not just about feeling sad all the time. Sometimes, feeling sad is okay, and it's normal to be sad when bad things happen to you, like if you lose a friend, lose your job or if you move schools.

There's another level of it that not everyone understands, and it takes on many forms.

For most people, there's something that protects them from sinking so far into their minds that they can't get out; you have to care. You have to care about yourself enough to fight your own landslides and get back on up the mountain.

Santana didn't care about herself, so she had nothing protecting her, no buffer to keep herself from sinking. She's been to dark places in her mind that I can't even begin to understand. I called it 'just how Santana is' at the time, but Miss Pillsbury eventually called it 'clinical depression.'

You couldn't say Santana was depressed now, but right under my nose it was starting, like the first few spots on your body before a rash spreads.

I think I knew something was wrong. After the fireworks it would have been okay for Santana to feel sad, because after all, we had so many people in our lives we had to fight just to be together. It would have been normal to have felt a bit overwhelmed and defeated.

But what she felt went beyond that. Feeling happy to her was the scariest thing in the whole world. It was like she looked through a window and saw what her life could be like, but then looked back at her reflection and felt like there was nothing she could ever do to keep it.

Her own self loathing must have been unbearable for her.

Sometimes I felt like I understood that. There has been so many times where I just wanted to be normal and fit in with other people.

But, just when I thought I understood exactly what she was going through, she'd say something, and I'd realize how much deeper her misery over being 'different' to what everyone else wanted ran than mine.

She saw herself as 'broken,' in a way I never did.

And she was, but not for the reasons she thought. Her inability to react positively to happiness, the first inclination of it sending her spiraling back down, was the only thing inside her that was broken.

People laugh and joke about depression. They say they're 'so depressed' over their favorite celebrity couple breaking up, or over breaking a good pair of heels. The same people likely wouldn't help a friend who is truly struggling and would just say 'its nothing' and to 'get over it'.

I needed help too dealing with my own disorder, but Santana's problems were no easier, or less serious than mine.

People with depression can be unkind, they lash out and push people away. So the world leaves them alone, which only makes things worse.

I swore to myself that I would never be one of those people.

But at least I always came back.

Somebody, had to keep coming back.

* * *

**Brittany S. Pierce, age 16**

Brittany spent the weekend _floating on a cloud_. That expression had never made sense to her before because people are very heavy, so putting them on clouds would be extremely dangerous.

But, it made sense now. Brittany felt like she hadn't touched the ground since she'd finally detached herself from Santana and walked home from the festival. It was even better than a cloud, it was like she was floating around Oz in Glinda's bubble.

She was so excited she could barely walk in a straight line. 'Brittany' and 'Santana' were now going to be names people associated with all the other people in the world who were lucky enough to be in love, just like Eric and Ariel, Brad and Angelina, Simba and Nala, those two girls Justin and Selena and Yogi and Boo-Boo.

She figured that studying everything Santana had ever taught her was important because obviously you had to know that stuff to be the best girlfriend ever. Forget that essay on tornadoes, she had more important work to do.

_Dear Santana_. Brittany began, opening a new page in her diary. She never wrote 'Dear Diary,' why would she write to someone she didn't know? She preferred to write to Santana instead.

_I have some more words for my new and improved dictionary_, she wrote_. _

The regular one just wasn't specific enough about stuff that was fast becoming a part of her life.

On the pages before, Brittany had written letters to Santana containing other definitions she'd come to understand through the years, such as:

_Mating - when people roll around together, mostly without clothing. Another term for 'sex.' _

_Cats – those who have mated or plan to mate because they care for others and like to share experiences. Notable examples: Lord Tubbington, Brittany S. Pierce. _

_Raccoons – those who mate for what looks like no reason because they don't really like each other, they just like hurting or using each other. May specifically want to make people feel sad, cheap, and used. Notable examples: Raccoon nest at Dalton dance, Tomas, Ben. _

Now, realizing how much she'd learned since then, she added:

_Alien probe. – the strange sensation when somebody first shows you your body can enjoy sexual contact. _

_Gay - a state of being executed especially well by unicorns, who follow their heart to happiness in spite of intolerance by others. Must be between two members of the same sex. _

_Vaginas - the correct answer to everything. Could also be the meaning of life. Further research required. _

_Penis – goes by many other names including 'dick' and 'prick'. Can therefore assume this would be a sharp instrument, potentially also used to do injury: see 'prick your finger on a spindle' from Sleeping Beauty. May also be similar to unicorn horn, though not actually worn on one's forehead like a horn in spite of many references to a species called 'dickhead'. _

_Unicorn - a state of being, characterized by independence, confidence, and total acceptance of your own individuality. Can be either male or female._

Brittany paused. _When you reach unicorn you're always smart, funny and beautiful because all of the best parts of you shine through_, she thought. Getting there and being out-of-progress, now that was the hard part. _All unicorns at least know how to tie their shoes_, she thought, looking down at her permanently untied laces. Brittany wasn't giving up, she was going to become unicorn for Santana. She'd be Santana's unicorn.

She smiled, giddily at the thought.

Brittany thought back to when she'd first met Santana in her dad's waiting room. Back then, Santana was always shining, her horn more brilliant than anyone else's.

Maybe Santana forgot who she was now and then, but Brittany still looked at her and could see that amazing little girl who had made her want to live in the real world. And, when she remembered, when the real Santana poked through the cracks, in those few seconds she still shone brighter than anyone Brittany had ever known.

She scribbled down another definition:

_Love - what I feel when I'm with Santana. _

She paused again. That definition wasn't very specific at all. She would have to work on it. Maybe she could ask Santana more about it at school tomorrow. She might even get an answer this time.

Brittany hoped she'd even get to do that thing with her mouth again. Kissing was even better than eating Sour Patch Kids or gummy bears. She imagined that her mouth was getting lonely and sad ever since it had found out it could kiss. She popped another gummy bear in her mouth to help it cope with its withdrawal, that would have to do for now. She shut her diary and curled up in her bed against her stuffed animals, closing her eyes.

Hours later, she still couldn't sleep, it still felt like wave after wave of electricity was going through her. She couldn't remember a time when she'd ever been so happy to be alive. She was so caught up in her own bliss that she didn't notice that she didn't get her usual text from Santana saying goodnight.

* * *

Brittany ran all the way to school and skipped down the halls, humming Firework to herself. She wasn't sure because months were confusing, but it had to be Spring. She felt like all the animals in Bambi. What did the wise owl call it? _Twitterpated_! She thought, remembering her favorite scene in the movie.

She mentally added that one to her dictionary.

_Twitterpated – to be overcome by love for Santana in the Springtime. _

When Santana showed up, maybe they could frolic and hold hands and watch something give birth.

_Or, we could at least watch Bambi together_, she thought.

Her heart leapt when she saw her, but then stilled in her chest.

She edged closer clumsily, her feet getting caught on each other. One of her long toe socks with hearts on them was beginning to unravel in places. She cast her eyes down to Santana's feet, she wasn't wearing any socks at all, even though Brittany had picked out matching heart ankle socks for her to wear today while she'd been over at her house last Friday, setting them beside her school bag so she wouldn't forget.

Santana was leaning up against her locker, her finger trailing up and down Puck's chest seductively.

Brittany frowned, the spring in her step finally abating. Maybe she was picking the lint off his clothes?

When Santana pulled him close by the collar of his shirt and kissed him, there was no more confusion, not even for Brittany. She was just one of the many staring at the couple with wide eyes, though Brittany's were the only ones clouded with pain.

This wasn't how it happened in the movie. Bambi was the only deer for Faline, he wasn't upstaged by a shark.

_A shark! That was it_, she realized. Puck had a fin on top of his head and he was super mean to not only unicorns, but to all the little fish.

Brittany strode up to them. "You're a shark," she stated directing a scowl in Pucks' direction.

He puffed his chest out. "What of it?" he asked.

Santana placed a hand on her arm. "Not now Brittany," she said warningly, an edge of desperation creeping into her voice. Her eyes darted everywhere before finally resting on Brittany's face.

Brittany turned away from Puck and stepped closer to Santana. "But San…?"

She had never seen Santana look so small and confused. She reminded Brittany of that time they got lost in Target together when they were seven, except back then, Santana had been putting on a show of bravado for Brittany's benefit. She also hadn't looked like a deer in headlights, trapped, and wanting to get away from Brittany as soon as possible.

"Brittany, I'm busy. Please. I'm busy." Santana mumbled giving her arm a little push.

Off balance, Brittany fell back a few steps. She looked at her arm and then back at Santana, hurt showing all over her face.

Santana was shaking her head at her, almost blindly, her moments more a reflex than communication.

"I love you baby, you're so hot," Puck said trying to redirect Santana's attention.

Santana's face remained impassive, but Brittany seemed on the edge of a precipice hearing those words, waiting desperately for Santana to tell him not to say that, like she'd told her.

Santana said nothing.

Brittany crumbled, her hands beginning to twist in front of her.

"I'll talk to you later, okay Britt?" Santana said trying to smile, but finding her jaw slack.

Brittany took another step backwards.

For a moment, Santana's eyes widened as if she couldn't believe she was really going to go, and her eyes glittered with an unspoken plea that Brittany never saw. She had turned away and was already halfway to the library.

Why weren't things different? Brittany felt like she'd given _everything_ she had to Santana under the fireworks, by loving her enough to fight through the noise, the break in her routine and her fear of touch enough for them to be close enough to find each other. And, it hadn't changed _anything_. Brittany didn't understand why, so she focused on the one thing she knew she might have the potential to understand. She pushed open the library's revolving door.

"Sharks," she whispered, trying not to cry. "Sharks, under _S_," she said pulling a few books off the shelves. "That's my favorite letter," she said aloud, a tear finally falling down, and landing on one now open book, bursting with full color photos of Hammerheads and Great Whites.

"_Little is known about shark mating behavior at this time."_

Brittany whined in frustration. Casting the books aside she moved over to the computers, starting up the World Wide Web. Within seconds, found herself on a website called 'Urban Dictionary'. It seemed like a lot of people had created their own definitions too. _In this confusing world, it must necessary for everyone_ she thought. _That guy who wrote the real dictionary should never have got published. _

She looked at the page when it finally loaded.

_Shark - a person, usually male, who is preoccupied with getting laid at whatever party he's at._

She clicked a link.

_Laid – to have sex. _

She backtracked and scrolled down. To 'shark' was also used as a verb.

_Shark - to knowingly hook up with a girl who rightfully should be hooking up with somebody else._

Santana is mine, Brittany thought to herself firmly. I had her first and everyone keeps taking her from me. She felt angry, like she might hit someone. The sensation felt wrong on her, like a dress five sizes too big. She never had liked using violence to solve problems.

All the raccoons were thieves too, but Puck was different. He was no ordinary thief, because this time it was personal. _If he was going to say 'I love you' to Santana, then he at least better mean it,_ Brittany thought narrowing her eyes. He better not be lying.

She marched outside, seeing Puck by the dumpster. He had Kurt by the legs, ready to toss him in. She could hear the fashionable boy complaining about not wanting to mess up his perfectly coifed hair. She agreed wholeheartedly, why should his lustrous mane have to mix with old banana peels and Jolly Rancher wrappers. "Put him down!" she bellowed as loud as she could.

Surprisingly, with a curious look on his face, he complied, and Kurt dashed off, whispering a quiet thanks as he passed her.

She got as close to Puck as she dared. "Do you really love her?" she asked.

"Woah. Settle down," Puck answered, "I'll walk you to physical education, we're in the same class. We're out in the fields today."

"Do you love her," Brittany said again, enunciating each syllable clearly as they walked, a safe distance apart. Brittany didn't want to lose any of her fingers.

His brow crinkled. "Santana?" he asked.

Brittany nodded.

"Well," he said, "we have fun together." They had reached the field. Brittany could see Coach Tanaka in the distance.

"Are you going to marry her?"

Puck spluttered. "Why would you say that?" he asked, leaning down into a stretch, lunging on one knee as he warmed up for their lesson.

"Because you have to look after her. If she's going to pick you to be her favorite over everyone, then you've got to take care of her properly," Brittany pleaded. "Do you know how she likes her coffee? You have to learn. You have to learn absolutely everything about her, because if she's going to choose you, then everything is up to you."

Coach Tanaka came into her view. "All right," he boomed, "ten laps, everyone, lets see how well you kids run. I'm coaching the track team in my spare time and I want some new recruits."

Puck looked away from Brittany, seeming interested in Coach Tanaka's proposition. He then took off at top speed, making his way across the field.

"WAIT!" Brittany shouted, "you didn't answer me!" _Sharks obviously don't care for rules_, she thought.

She broke into a run, chasing after him, shouting his name. He had a head start, and he was obviously used to running. He'd probably got his practice running away from the convenience stores he'd just robbed, if the rumors were true.

"Stop thief!" Brittany yelled, but that seemed to trigger something in him, propelling him along faster. _This is not fun like my race with Santana_, Brittany thought, beginning to puff, feeling a stitch emerging at her side.

Finally she tackled him to the ground, but as she did, she felt something in herself tear. She cried out in pain. She'd been so focused on catching Puck she'd completely forgotten about gravity and about watching her landing. She'd been about as graceful as Lord Tubbington, who had to be the only cat in the whole world who didn't fall on his four feet and always hit the ground on his rump, making a noise like an earthquake. Brittany wished she'd had the sense to warm up before sprinting so hard like Puck had. She grabbed at him. Shark or not, he wasn't getting away from her. Waving her hands out in front of her wildly, she found she was only grasping at air.

She lay sprawled on the ground, unwilling to move, the pain in her leg relentlessly throbbing.

Puck was already on his feet. He lifted her gently in his arms.

"You're a strange one," he said to her, "but somehow you're still hot. I'm going to take you to the nurse's office. Besides, if I didn't, she'd cut me off for a week."

He didn't bother to say who he meant, even someone overhearing would know that they were talking about Santana. It was always about her.

Brittany's eyes watered. "It hurts," she said her focus shifting in and out.

He said nothing.

"You never answered my question," she said looking directly upwards which unfortunately gave her a great view of his nostril hairs.

"Oh. Well. I don't know what to tell you. She's fun. I'm free."

He shrugged.

"I'm Brittany," she said softly. It wasn't to tell him that Brittany was her name, she knew perfectly well that they weren't introducing themselves right now, and that his name wasn't 'Free.' She said it to tell him who she was. She obviously was neither fun, nor free like them.

"I know that. I tell you what, the three of us might make a good threesome." He waggled his eyebrows at her.

"We can call ourselves Cute, Young and Innocent. I'll be Cute, because obviously she finds me super cute. She can be Young, because that's all she has a claim to anymore," he said, laughing. It wasn't an unkind laugh, it was more conspiratorial like he was part of something she wasn't.

"And you…," he looked her up and down, "I don't care what they all say. You're Innocent."

"I'm Brittany," she repeated. Brittany was neither free nor fun, and clearly from a world apart from theirs. She didn't want to be in any kind of threesome that involved Puck.

Puck gave up and set her on the farthest cot away from the nurses station. The nurse herself was nowhere in sight. Puck had heard that they'd just hired Mr Schuester's wife, Terri, who was unreliable at best which explained her absence. Puck bullied the only other kid in the room to get out of the adjacent cot and to go and get Santana. He staggered away, desperate to obey. He didn't want to become another dumpster-kid.

Minutes later, Santana came rushing in, skidding to a stop. The kid wasn't with her, he had probably passed out on his way back. Santana and Puck exchanged a look.

"I can take it from here," Santana said.

Brittany watched him leave, mohawk and all, as he rounded the corner and left for their next class.

He could be sort of nice when he wanted to be, after all he had carried her in and stayed with her until Santana had come, but that just made her irrationally angry. If he wasn't all bad, then who was the bad guy?

Santana was unusually quiet as she retrieved some ice and held it to Brittany's leg, occasionally massaging the area. It seemed an intimate gesture, Brittany noted as she watched Santana's hands apply pressure to her injured hamstring.

"I don't think this is too bad, Britts, maybe it's just a little strained," she said, "you can flex your knee right?"

Brittany nodded, showing her she could, making a face from the pain. It hurt, but it was bearable and was pretty sure that now the shock had worn off that she could walk. She tried to smile at her bravely. She didn't want Santana to worry at all.

"Do I get a lollipop, Nurse Santana?" Brittany asked playfully.

"That's Nurse Snix to you," Santana said, dropping her eyes down. Part of her wanted Brittany to fight her and to just kiss her again, but the rest of her didn't want to deal with this, she wanted to be away from Brittany so she didn't have to see her look of disappointment when she realized what a black hole Santana really was, most of the time. Brittany didn't deserve that.

Brittany studied Santana's profile. She thought about kissing her and wished she could ask Santana why she felt like that and what it meant when you wanted to kiss somebody. Was that the love part? If it was, what about all the times Brittany _hadn't_ thought about wanting to kiss Santana. She'd always felt like it didn't matter what they were doing, she was happy anyway, just so long as they were together. It was two opposite extremes, did they add up to the same thing?

And, Brittany didn't even have three logical reasons for wanting to kiss Santana. Three was the magical number for logic. She only knew that she'd liked it a lot last time. The rest felt unexplainable and that made Brittany feel uncomfortable. She liked reasons and logic behind everything, otherwise life was so confusing.

Brittany wondered why Santana kept choosing Puck over her. What did he have that she didn't? She found herself growing angry with Santana. It was the second time today, which officially made it the second time in the history of ever that Brittany had ever felt like this.

"You're a misogynist," Brittany growled at her, childishly. _Did Santana choose him just because he's a boy? _

Santana was startled. She was firstly surprised by the obvious anger in her friends' tone, and secondly by the fact that she'd obviously been reading the dictionary.

"I hate women?" she asked, her forehead puckering.

"Yes." Brittany said, her anger falling away into a miserable pout. It wasn't making things any better. She traced the contours of Santana's face in her mind going over them several times. It helped calm her down.

Santana rolled her eyes, "Brittany, _I'm_ a woman."

Brittany was well aware of that, but it didn't help Santana's case. She didn't seem to like herself very much otherwise why was she always so determined to make herself unhappy? And, she was making Brittany unhappy too.

Santana turned to face her, meeting Brittany's gaze.

"Is there any reason you're staring at me like that Britt? Have I got something on my face? An invisible mole that only you can see maybe?" she asked sarcastically.

Brittany shook her head.

"If you've got something to say, just say it," Santana said crossing her arms over her chest defensively.

Brittany's eyes fell to Santana's books splayed out carelessly beside them. "Why does your Spanish book say 'I love Puck' and 'Mrs Puckerman' all over it with cute little hearts?" Brittany asked, blurting out the one thing she was trying not to say. She never could control what she said.

Santana was taken back and responded defensively, "Why do you want to know? It's just a stupid doodle. Quinn has stuff written all over her books too, go and ask her."

"No," Brittany said trying to keep her breathing controlled, "I'm asking you. What's going on with you lately?"

Santana sighed and rolled her eyes the same way she did daily at Mr Schue, "I'm sleeping with him, okay Brittany? I don't need to ask your permission about everything I do, do I?"

"No. And you mean you're just having sleepovers in his bed, right?" she asked hopefully.

Santana just stared at her until Brittany got the message.

"Oh…," Brittany whispered.

Santana narrowed her eyes at her, challenging her.

"You can ask me questions about it if you want, I've already had to answer heaps for other people," she said expecting Brittany to ask her how good he was and stuff like that.

"Are you guys dating?" Brittany asked, dreading the answer.

"Sex is NOT dating, okay? Sex doesn't mean we're going to get married and have kids or some shit, we're just fucking and enjoying it," she said, beginning to fiddle with the already chipped paint on her nails.

"But your Spanish book says you love him," Brittany said near tears now.

"Oh that?" Santana waved her hand dismissively, "I've got stuff like that written in the girls bathrooms too. It's just like marking out your territory when people can see it just so everyone knows he's taken. Just because we're not dating that doesn't mean I'm going to let him have sex with anybody else. I want all the other girls to know I'm the top dog."

"But…," Brittany's voice had dropped to a tone so low that Santana barely heard it, "Why doesn't your book say you love me? Don't you remember last Friday… when you had your hands over my ears and…"

Brittany honestly began to contemplate that Santana might have forgotten that night. Why else was she acting like this?

Santana held up a hand to stop her and Brittany stopped. She just couldn't hear Brittany relay the whole experience to her like she knew she would. Brittany had a tendency of answering "What did you do yesterday?" with a minute by minute description of every move she made, and this would be no exception.

"Yeah, I remember Brittany. And what? Did you think that meant that we were gonna start writing stupid little love letters to each other, making stupid promises to each other that we can never keep, and coordinate our outfits? After I left you, I went straight to Puck's house."

"We already match," Brittany said confused, looking at their matching yin yang symbol charm bracelets. If Santana had worn the socks she'd picked out like she usually did, then they'd match even more. _And we already write letters to each other and make each other promises,_ she thought.

Santana ripped her bracelet off, and set it beside her in annoyance.

"That's not the point. The point is, it didn't mean anything. It didn't mean a thing to me and it certainly didn't mean anything to you."

"Santana… of course it meant something to me… it meant everything."

"No. Brittany," Santana's face was darkening now, "no, it didn't. Because nothing ever means anything to you. I tell you something, and five seconds later you've forgotten it. Not what I said, but the meaning of it. Facts and figures you keep forever, but the point of it, the understanding of what happened is what never stands in that brain of yours for very long. Don't you know how many times I had to reassure you we were actually friends when we were kids? You could never get it, because you could never understand that everything we did together added up to friends. Even when it's obvious, it's still not clear cut enough for you. Relationships are not a case to solve with evidence. Most of the time, a friend just _is, _with hardly a logical explanation at all, and that makes no sense to you_._ Your mind is a mess of facts and figures with no ties. You want me to write 'I love Brittany' all over my fucking book?"

Santana's voice rose to a higher pitch.

"Friends are so uncomplicated compared to love, how the fuck do you think you're ever going to understand love? Why would we even try to go there? I bet you don't have your stupid three reasons for why you love me, do you?"

Brittany didn't, and she knew Santana knew she didn't.

Santana just nodded her head, swallowing hard.

"I thought as much. If you don't understand something, then it can't mean much, can it? It can't really be a part of your life. So why would you drag this shit up?"

Santana began pacing around the room, gathering her books up blindly, dropping things everywhere as she went.

"San, you're crying," Brittany said in a soft, concerned little voice.

Santana exploded. This was the last straw. "And god, see? This is why I like being with Puck. We never talk about stuff like this. It's just so easy with him. It's uncomplicated, and we're both exactly on the same page. We just get in there, do our thing and get gone and there's nothing but approval from everyone. We're two girls, we're not supposed to be anything but friends. People can't know we kissed and if you tell anyone I swear to god i'll… I'll…"

"Santana!" Brittany cried out, tearfully, knowing was was coming, she was going to leave.

"Don't," Santana warned her and then got up and left, leaving Brittany sobbing on the cot, still clutching the ice to her leg.

_How did everyone else know when they're in love with someone?_ Brittany wondered as she hiccupped into her hand, tears seeping in between her fingers. She hated that Santana was mad at her and she cried over her a lot. Was that love? She hated that Santana chose Puck over her. Was that love too? Did all those things add up to love? Was that enough?

She'd never meant to hurt Santana, but she had done it somehow and made her upset. She didn't understand why Santana was yelling at her, so she must be really stupid. _I bet Puck would know_ _what she meant_, the voice in Brittany's head said in a low whisper.

Brittany reached in the darkest place of her mind, the place where she knew she was different, even though she had refused to talk about it since Elementary school. It was the place where she feared she would never fit in and would never belong with anyone.

It was the place where she felt like she might never be good enough for Santana.

_Maybe Santana should be with Puck. He's no better than me if I can't love her properly,_ she thought. Maybe Santana wanted his love and not hers because Brittany wasn't good enough. She couldn't be mad at Santana for choosing him if he was who she really wanted. She already said that he 'gets her' and at least he's a boy. For some reason, that must be important.

_And, he is definitely more fun than me,_ she thought. She was sure of that now. _Maybe he kisses better than me too. Maybe she didn't like it as much as I thought she did. _

Brittany sobbed at the thought of Puck getting to tell Santana all the time that he loved her. Maybe only people who understood the words properly were allowed to use them. Maybe because he understood them, he felt something that Brittany didn't. Brittany found herself questioning herself and everything she thought she knew, turning the possibilities over in her mind.

In that moment, Brittany truly wondered if she was ever meant to be with another person, maybe because she existed almost in a world apart from others, she didn't deserve to _be_ a part of anything. Maybe, she was just supposed to stop bothering everyone, and she had to leave Santana alone.

* * *

**Brittany S. Pierce, Present. **

You probably all want to be mad at her for saying the things she did and for hurting me like that.

I've come back here to have the last word and to stand in front of her as protectively as Lord Tubbington stands in front of who he loves best, our refrigerator.

I don't love her because she's perfect, I love her as an imperfect human being.

She had a valid point and good reason to be upset with me.

When there's a part of your brain that doesn't work right and you find it difficult to interpret and understand emotions, it does change things and it definitely affects a potential partner.

It's sort of like; if you've got the flu, but to you it's just a mess of symptoms, because nobody's ever told you what it's called, and somethings blocking you from figuring it out for yourself.

Obviously that's going to affect how you communicate what's happening to you with others.

Substitute 'flu' for 'love' with all the 'symptoms' of being in love, without the link to interpretation, and it at least takes away your confidence when you're with someone. It affects your deliberate telling and showing of the person that you love them, though it does not affect those indirect things that you can't help doing. Things like how I cared for her enough to give her my prized Cinderella band-aid on the very day we met and then everything beyond. Those things can mean so much.

But sometimes, it's not enough. Sometimes, _more_ means proper acknowledgement of the relationship.

Neither of us could give each other that on that day. I was too confused, and she was too defensive. She was nowhere near ready to admit to what had happened between us, and something I learned much too late was that it never helped to push her into anything until she was ready. She was too fragile.

It wasn't right, but she drew out my confusion, making me question everything I thought I knew about love.

She did this only because she couldn't bear for this whole thing to be her fault. She had to put it on my shoulders, because she couldn't stand to hate herself any more than she already did. She was in too much pain already, she had to make it my fault, so it didn't have to be hers.

Focusing on how confused I was about what love meant, also made it seem to her like our happiness under the fireworks was only a fantasy to us both, and not what really happened.

That hurt her, but she bought into it especially hard because it allowed her to sink further into her denial. She preferred to deny that there were any good things out there for her and seeing 'us' as only fantasy, not a reality hers or otherwise, confirmed that.

These are the places you go, even in the early onset of depression. It's so hard for the rest of us to understand why those suffering from it push all the good things in their life away.

If I had been smarter, maybe I might have been able to understand that on her, "Leave me alone!" actually meant "Please don't leave me."

But, I hardly understand what people mean as it is, let alone when they actually mean something else. I just ended up thinking I was worst girlfriend ever, and that affected our story.

Sometimes, even now I think about how I wish I could have listened harder and realized quicker that it was the loudest cry for help yet, but just like her, I'm not perfect either.

* * *

**3 Things: **

**1. My sister would say 'this was where the shit hit the fan.' Everything that had been building kind of exploded on us. There was nothing pleasant about writing this particular chapter and it's probably not much fun to read. But it's realistic. It's what happened, and I have to tell the truth. I shall take this moment to remind everyone again that there will be a happy ending because that was a lot of pain to read through, well, at least I think so. I'm glad it's over with. **

**I really hate this chapter because I feel like I got everyone's hopes up in the last one.**

**Years ago now at the time, I had my hopes up too. I hate to make people feel disappointed like felt, but in a way it's cool to think some people out there are reliving the same emotions with me. **

**Still, I hope everyone's not too mad about it. **

**2. The extra Brittany S. Pierce, Present at the end was just so everyone could see "Santana's" point of view better. Don't think badly of her, it's very hard to treat others well when you're in despair and you have so little regard for yourself.**

**3. The shark definitions actually did come right out of Urban Dictionary. Also, my diaries really were full of the craziest definitions for my guide to life that are pretty funny to read now, and unfortunately her workbooks really were full of hearts with "Pucks'" name in them. **


	13. There Are No Pills For That

**NegativeSpaces- Wow, I loved the song, it's actually very much my "Santana's" taste in music, though she did eventually warm up to my Disney soundtracks. ****I definitely see the connection. Especially the line "hate me so you can finally see what's good for you" because it relates to how Santana needs Brittany to keep trying to stop her 'waging wars' on herself, but she also wants the best for her and in Santana's opinion those two wants could never coexist peacefully, because the closer they get to each other, the more she's convinced she is at worst destroying her, or at best taking her away from having a better life. I think that's why it takes her so long to approach Brittany again in this chapter now. She tries to hold out, then she broke. My "Santana" must have gone over that argument in her head thousands of times. ****Thanks for telling me about the song, I'd never heard it!**

**harumad – Those are such beautiful words from you, that actually may be one of the best things anyone has ever said to me. ****I know that warm feeling you mentioned too, because it's how I feel every time someone like you cares enough to tell me they like me and my story, because that reminds me to keep being "Brittany" and not to give up. ****I also can't wait to see the project you're working on, I think it's awesome that this story has inspired your creativity!**

**chanismith. kolman – I'm glad you like it! And yes, there will definitely be a happy ending, I couldn't lead people through all this angst without there being a light at the end of the tunnel. **

**xoxo - I'm so glad to hear that! You have all the knowledge so I kind of think of you as like a Brittana expert, lol, so I'm glad to hear you say I haven't gone OOC because the last few chapters (the fight dialogue especially), was more of a transcription of what really happened, so I did wonder if I was getting carried away and losing sight of Brittana, because I really don't want to do that. Thanks so much for still sticking around and letting me know what you think, and yeah, tackling "Puck" felt so awesome for like three seconds before it hurt, haha. **

**Taeblancaxoxo, booknerd4 - I'm so glad you both like the real-ness of this. For me it's a lot like confronting reality. I guess I could have escaped into fantasy and written something fictional about sunshine and rainbows but it wouldn't help me much, so I like the fact that other people can get more out of reality too. Thanks so much for telling me what you think!**

**mellowpelly - I'm glad you're enjoying this story, you're only the second person I know of to come here that has personal experience with someone with Asperger's :) I've heard stories about lots of people living their lives all the way to being in their forties and fifties and only just finding out then that they're autistic. I'm not actually sure if it's better to be told earlier before you're mature enough to be able to use the knowledge about yourself productively like me, or to have had what i'm guessing your brother went through and wonder for years and years why they can't be normal. Anyway, I really think it's awesome that you're so patient and supportive of your brother, we all need more people like you. :) **

**And prattle01 thank you as well for always coming back, I love seeing your comments chapter after chapter! :)**

**Also, Miara848, thank you for the lovely compliments :) and to after8icecream, I'm really glad you found the last chapter interesting!**

**Oh, and Puff614 – I wanted to say hi to you just in case you're out there. I know real life gets in the way for sure, but I wanted to tell you I still missed you last week anyway! :)**

**I'm a bit late this week, because this chapter is so…. long. It goes all the way up to the Glee s1 episode "Wheels" timeline****. **

**I had another go at the summary as well, I'm horrible at summing things up. Really horrible. I have a sense of all the details but no overall perspective. I don't know if I'm happy with it yet, I might keep trying because summaries are important.**

**I spent ages this week looking up more about the actresses that play Brittany and Santana and they're fascinating, they have their own story going on as well, for sure.**

**Anyway, I hope you all like this chapter! :)**

* * *

**Chapter 13 – There Are No Pills For That**

**Brittany S. Pierce, Present**

Do you know why I love Disney movies so much?

My favorite part about Disney movies, is that they tell stories about unusual couples.

All the way back in the fifties, they already had the Lady and the Tramp which showed the world how much opposites attract. I spent years perfecting nosing the biggest spaghetti meatball across to the other side of my plate for Santana to have, just like in the movie. You definitely have to love someone to share the best part of your dinner, just ask Lord Tubbington. I had spaghetti at Breadsticks every time until I got the move totally right. I just wanted to show Santana how much I loved her, and sharing meatballs just wasn't the same gesture if you did it with your hands.

As the years went by, Disney got a bit braver and we saw Timon and Pumba. You can't tell me that pair didn't make out at some point, but what happens in a hollow log, stays in the hollow log. Disney also created worlds where mermaids can be in love with humans, Native American 'savages' can do the mating dance with white explorers, and a feral man raised by gorillas can be loved by a refined English woman. A space ranger action figure may also find his flying device becomes erect at the sight of a handsome cowboy, but even though I'm sure it happened, I guess they didn't film those parts.

I've written Disney many letters because I think their next love story should be about two females; a confused but loyal duck and a beautiful but tough skinned lizard. It would make millions, if only they'd release the important footage rather than editing all the best parts out like they did with Buzz and Woody.

Santana and I made a usual couple. I guess it's like how you'd expect ducks to be with other ducks and lizards to be with other lizards, yet there we were, almost the reverse of each other, together.

At this point of our story, I couldn't have put into words exactly what I thought a couple in love should be like, but it's clear to me now that I think it's the reverse of how she saw it.

I think sex _is_ intimacy. I think all sexual touches and beyond, are just an extension of care, and of love and affection.

Santana thinks that intimacy _is_ sex. She thinks love or intimacy is quick, raw and only physical and that there is nothing else.

We had something in common though, looking at intimacy from each other's perspectives scared us both, but for such different reasons.

It unnerved her, to see me treat sexual encounters like they did more to your heart and mind, than to your body. When she was with me, I treated her differently to how she was treated by other people. In those times where she was with me, she even experienced intimacy my way, and that shift in worlds terrified her.

It unnerved me, to see her use sex as an escape. I think it started with Tomas and Ben, and having to pretend she wasn't even there in the room to get through those experiences. She gained the ability to leave her head and heart at the door, numbing her emotions down to nothing when she was touched. She coped by using other people to escape from herself, and the minute numb turned back into thought, she was gone before anyone could remind her that sex was supposed to be about two people in love.

She got addicted to that kind of escape. You might even say that she had an addictive personality, never content to do things the way others did, she always took everything one step further.

I just got addicted to her.

* * *

**Brittany S. Pierce, age 16**

"The light switch, Brittany, not the power-point switch," Finn said tiredly, trying to determine which of the darkened shapes sitting on the chairs in front of him in the choir room was Quinn. _Not the little noisy one_, he thought, _that must be Rachel. _

"But they look exactly the same the same in the dark," Brittany called out to him, confused. Switches were the bane of her existence, she could never tell what each one for for, and they almost never had labels.

"Just turn it on!" Finn said, "you're closest. We need some light in here, I can't see a thing."

Santana stood up and easily found the right switch and hit it, before walking back over to sit on Puck's lap.

Light flooded the room, and Brittany wasn't the only one who raised a hand to shield her eyes from the sudden brightness, though she noticed Santana merely squinted.

Brittany tried to catch her attention and smile at her, but Santana kept her head turned away. Even though they weren't speaking to each other right now, Santana still helped her out in little ways sometimes, and Brittany wished she could say thanks.

_When you were here before. Couldn't look you in the eye_

Brittany sighed. No matter what she did, Santana wouldn't look at her, and she'd had her eyes practically glued to Puck all week. Brittany hated that Puck had joined Glee club, taking over the one space where she had Santana all to herself, but she guessed it didn't matter. She wasn't allowed to talk to her anyway. She didn't even get to share.

The noise in the classroom resumed, and Mr Schuster walked in. "Alright class," he said, "this week, the Glee club will be studying rock legends. Who can tell me what a legend is?"

Brittany raised her hand.

"Yes Brittany?"

"A foot!" she announced brightly, pleased to know the answer.

The class groaned and Mr Schuester shushed them. "So very close," he said, "what about you, Artie, do you know?"

Brittany sighed and tuned out Artie's answer, opening her diary instead of the sheet music that was placed in front of her.

_I feel stupid all the time now,_ she wrote_. I never get anything right. Everyone seems to speak a different language to me, and they find my own language stupid. There's a lot of things you aren't supposed to say, like how much weight Quinn has been putting on lately. It's like that book I read once about the Emperor and his new clothes; you're supposed to pretend stuff like that really is invisible. I don't see why you can't say stuff that is true. I don't know why people keep telling me I'm not being very nice, because it's just a fact right? Nobody would lie about about how many bones a dinosaur has, so why does everyone act like Quinn is still skinny? _

Brittany traced the word 'stupid' over and over with her finger, contemplating it. She drew a box around the word and thickly underlined it.

_I never really thought about whether I was smart or stupid before,_ she wrote. _I never really wondered what sort of person I was. I was just Brittany, Santana's friend. Now I'm stupid. I wonder if I'm anything else? How does everyone else figure that out? My sister Katie says that she's known who she is since she was in Kindergarten. Why am I so slow at everything? _

Brittany's pencil snapped and she groaned in frustration, hunting around in her bag for a sharpener. Kurt took pity on her and handed her his pen. It was pink with a fuzzy end and she liked it.

_I wish she'd talk to me again,_ she wrote. _I wish I could talk to her. I wish she'd come and shine a light on me and make things clearer again. She'd know who I am. She knows everything. _

A tear rolled down her nose and splashed onto the page, almost in slow motion. She stared at Santana. If she couldn't talk to her or touch her, then looking at her couldn't do any harm, right? Dreaming was free as well. Brittany almost looked forward to going to bed every night, because at least there she could always be with Santana.

Kurt, who couldn't help but to read some of what she'd written, placed a hand on her shoulder, patting it gently.

"You keep the pen," he said, "and you can come over tonight if you want, i'm making spaghetti bolognese, your favorite, just don't do the meatball thing while dad is in the room, please. You know it kind of freaks him out."

Brittany giggled.

Santana's head snapped up, the sound of Brittany's sudden laughter unmistakable to her ears. It pierced right though her heart.

_You're just like an angel. Your skin makes me cry._

She wished she hadn't lost control and yelled at Brittany. She had sort of meant what she said, but she'd never meant to say it like that. She'd never forget the crushed expression on Brittany's face as she'd stormed out on her, out of the nurse's office, abandoning her without as a glance backwards, even though Brittany was hurt. More than anything, she was ashamed of herself, and all she'd learned from it, was that shame was an emotion that grew and multiplied the longer it was left unresolved. She would deserve it if Brittany never spoke to her again. Maybe, at least in Brittany's case, it was for the best. _She's sweet, and she's good, and she's innocent,_ Santana thought. And she doesn't deserve me dragging her down.

_You float like a feather. In a beautiful world_  
_I wish I was special. You're so fucking special_

* * *

Brittany figured Kurt had to be her friend now. She had three good reasons. 1. He said so. 2. He liked her dancing. 3. He let her borrow his perfume.

He wore the same perfume as Santana, so she was always making excuses to stand closer to him.

They had appreciated each other from afar at first, but had only recently started hanging out on the day a couple of girls had chased Brittany into an empty science classroom during break. Without Santana's protection, she was an easy target, and she was gullible enough to believe anything they said. They told her they'd be waiting outside the classroom so she'd better not ever come out. Kurt hadn't found her for a couple of hours, but still, better late than never.

_Brittany sat motionless, waiting at a desk. She could be in here for days, maybe even weeks. She would have to find a food source. Maybe she could lay a trap for a possum or something. She couldn't hear those bigger girls outside, but that didn't mean they weren't still there. Maybe if she could figure out how to lay a trap for a possum, then she could throw it at the girls. She nodded her head. Forget the food source, she needed weapons more. _

_Needing to let off some steam and realizing that she might as well try to make the best of the situation, she cleared a space in the middle of the room and she began to dance. She chose the 'Single Ladies' routine, because she was still upset and she wanted something easy that she could have danced to in her sleep. She didn't need any music, she could hear it all in her head. _

_She was on her third replay of the song when Kurt walked in. _

"_Wow!" he said, "you bring a whole new meaning to the phrase 'dancing to the beat of your own drum' don't you? You're really good, you know." _

"_Nah, it's easy. And there's no drum solo," Brittany said, forgetting her shyness in the moment. She could always escape from everything when she danced. "Copy me, I'll show you how to do it." _

_Kurt followed her moves, swiftly mimicking her. They were dancing in a line, pumping their fists up and down to the imaginary beat, when the bell rang. Kurt flopped down into a chair, exhilarated and panting.  
"Will you come over and teach me more of it, this afternoon?" he asked, "we can use actual music, and maybe I can bring Tina from Glee as well. When the video first came out all I ever heard from her was that it was the best video of all time. She sounded like Kanye West." He wrinkled his nose at the thought. He hadn't been amused when the Glee club had performed 'Gold Digger' a couple of months ago, and at the time, he had in fact used a few Single Ladies moves during their disorganized accompanying routine to make it more bearable. _

_Brittany stared at him. She had never been invited to anyone but Santana's house before, except for the odd sleepover at the Fabrays when Santana had insisted she get an invite. _

"_You don't have to," he said kindly, confused by her expression._

"_No," said Brittany slowly, "I will come over. Even though you're not Santana." _

_He nodded good naturedly and ushered her out of the room, ignoring the fact that she was holding a now lit match that she'd taken from the science cabinet, and was holding it out in front of her as if to ward off someone, or ward something away. _

_She caught him staring at her. "It worked in the Jungle Book," she told him looking around nervously. _

"_What did?" he asked. _

"_Fire. Some girls chased me in here. One was big like Shere Khan the tiger. Nobody likes fire."_

_Kurt nodded. "Yeah," he said, "but, defending yourself this way is pretty dangerous." Quick as a flash, he blew out the match and put a hand on her wrist. "Look Brittany, if you want to scare those girls away, you can't use a weapon because you'll get suspended. Even worse, you could get seriously hurt. You have to use words. You have to act meaner than them." He extended his fingers and curled them over like claws, as if he had become Shere Khan the tiger himself._

Brittany shook her head. "_Santana has always done that stuff for me, but she's not talking to me right now. I don't have the power to go 'all Lima Heights.' She's always protected me."_

"_She can't be there all the time, nobody can. You have to learn how to protect yourself," he told her._

"_Does being mean work for you?" _

"_Sometimes," he admitted. "I'm not as convincing as Santana, but you have to fight back or else you've got no chance at all. Do what they do only worse." _

"_They called me names," Brittany said, "they called me a retard. I held up the line in the cafeteria because I couldn't decide what I wanted and they got mad. There were just too many choices." _

"_Okay, so think of something mean to say to them, and if you can't, just use a lot of bad language. Practice on me." _

_Brittany put her hands on her hips and frowned. "You can never tell with bees," she said. _

"_Okay, that's a start. That might work if you were Winnie the Pooh, and very mildly annoyed that you're not getting any honey, but going all 'One Hundred Acre Wood' hasn't got much on going all 'Lima Heights.' Think angry. Swear at me." _

"_That was a bloody doddle and a piece of piss!" Brittany exclaimed, drawing herself up to full height and doing a fairly convincing English accent. _

"_Your words, Brittany," Kurt said, "not the words of a bleached blonde vampire, with a thing about duster coats."_

_Brittany looked around wildly for a hint._

"_Your words," he repeated, "if you're not angry enough at those girls, think of someone you're really angry with." _

_In a split second, Brittany had pictured herself. Her face changed and she slammed her fist against the wall. _

"_You're so stupid!" she shouted, "you're never going to get her back because you don't understand anything. That's why she's with him. You'll never be a unicorn!" _

_She went to punch the wall again, too upset to feel pain or think properly, when Kurt's hands stopped her, grabbing hold of her wrists. _

_Brittany stopped mid-air, panting as if she'd been running. She tried slowly exhaling, her expression pained and ashamed for losing control of herself like that. _

"_Channel that, Brittany," he said, "use that to fight them, just please, for gods sake never direct that again at yourself."_

* * *

For a while, Brittany went under everybody's radar on account of the fact that apparently Quinn was more than fat, she was pregnant. Everyone was talking about it, but at the same time pretending they didn't know. Brittany had no idea what they were saying most of the time.

Puck had told Santana, and Santana had broken her silence to tell Brittany, and Brittany had told everyone else by accident. How was she supposed to know that 'preggers' wasn't some type of fattening egg-based dessert Quinn was having all the time? All Brittany had said, was that Quinn was at all mall 'buying elastic-waist pants so she could eat more preggers,' though she supposed it would totally have been a scandal in itself for Quinn to be eating anything that could put on the pounds. Coach Sylvester didn't let them eat anything unless they were about to pass out, let alone dessert.

Santana was now off everybody's radar too, but unlike Brittany, she wasn't happy about it.

Santana was pissed about the pregnancy, Brittany could tell. It was just another thing that Quinn had that Santana didn't and that tally was mounting up. Santana didn't want to be pregnant, but she didn't want Quinn to share anything with Puck that she didn't. As hard as Santana tried, as much as she still kept on top on the sexy list, Quinn was still captain of the Cheerios, and more popular, richer, and more perfectly put together. She always had been.

Santana didn't recall telling Puck that he could sleep with Quinn. She also didn't know the point where Quinn had decided to quit that good Christian shit and start getting her mack on. Santana had never been in control of her life, but at least she had thought she was controlling Puck. Apparently not. This made her feel a hot rage.

Santana's rage turned organized, by pseudoephedrine tablets, courtesy of Mrs Schuester who gave the entire Glee club some to enhance their performances in their group number mash-offs. The drugs had worked, and Santana and Brittany had both been on fire during the Walking on Sunshine/Halo mash up.

Pseudoephedrine had turned Santana into a self-proclaimed evil mastermind. She had never been more productive now that she suddenly had the energy to be able to stay awake all night plotting ways to get ahead, doing so with a detached and calculated concentration.  
The tablets made her feel like she was supposed to feel; on top. Evenings with Puck had improved, but all too quickly Santana's supply had run out and she hadn't been willing to let the chemical high go. For the past few months, she had been bribing some kid with ADHD for Dexedrine pills and they were even better.

Brittany couldn't help noticing the changes in Santana, even though she could only watch from afar. She was colder, harder, and picking more fights with the other Cheerios, as if boys could be won like trophies at a wrestling match. Brittany wished she would stop the violence. With the exception of Puck, whom she seemed to go back to most Friday nights by default, she seemed to grow tired of the others more quickly. She had lost interest in even the boys she had pegged as the most likely to get out of Lima someday, usually by the ticket of football scholarships. The less popular guys became her slaves, being told to carry her books or buy her drinks. To Brittany, they kind of looked like puppies that she had kicked that still came back for more. Brittany wanted to stop watching Santana, but she couldn't. She'd been watching her for too long now to stop. She wondered if this was what addicts feel like.

At the time, Mrs Schuester's tablets had affected Brittany too. On pseudoephedrine, her outlook had shifted and she'd had a calm but determined drive to look normal and fit in, suddenly believing that this was possible if only she made choices more like everyone else. She was tired of all the bullying.

Several tablets in, Brittany had done her best impression of Santana, and asked Mike Chang out. No matter what Santana did, she was still Brittany's hero and there was nothing she could do to not still want to be like her. It didn't occur to her at the time, that asking someone out to be more like another person, was wrong.

She liked Mike and she hoped that he never left Glee club because of the pressure from his football coach and his family. She also thought that maybe he could take her mind of Santana, even for only a few minutes. He was a good dancer, much better than Tina, the other Asian. Tina had invented her own moves at Kurt's house when she'd tried to teach her to dance to Single Ladies and it made Brittany mad. Couldn't she see that she had to follow the routine if she didn't want to anger Beyoncé? Everyone said she was like a god, and what if she brought the plague on them?

Pseudoephedrine made Brittany more confident and less aware of her body so when Mike causally touched her on their date, she hadn't had the same panic inducing reaction as she normally had. They had gone to Breadstix and had a really good time, and even though the whole time Brittany had wished she was with Santana, the pills helped her to shrug it off.

They made her thoughts even more random, yet in a focused way. Mike seemed to find her theories about garden gnomes actually being alive really interesting, and she'd had more than three logical reasons to back it up. On the pills, it was easier to explain what she meant about things, and get people to understand what she was talking about. Being with Mike had made her sort of feel less lonely and he'd promised to teach her how to pop and lock in return for a second date at the drive in. At the time, she had told him she would like that.

For some time now after their first date, Mike had been busy with family commitments every night of the week, and when he finally approached Brittany again, the drug was well and truly out of her system. Suddenly, Mike looked much scarier. She kept avoiding him as much as she could, but he was persistent.

Part of Brittany knew that she could do it, she could get more pseudoephedrine and go out with him again, and feel like any other girls at their school. But, as tempting as it was, Brittany decided that she was either going to go clean or not at all. Pills made her different, and maybe better, but it was cheating. She'd rather have people chase her into classrooms and yell at her in Glee club, than become controlled by a handful of white tablets. She might be dumb, but she'd never be a cheater.

* * *

A week later, Mr Schuester decided the Glee club should have a five day bake sale, in order to raise money to rent a special bus so wheelchair bound Artie could come on the trip with them to Sectionals. Everyone had been separated into groups of twos and threes to sell cupcakes. In spite of Santana's protesting, Brittany, Santana and Puck had been selected as one group, and they were currently selling cupcakes made with Pucks' special pot laced recipe.

The main problem for their business wasn't that Santana and Puck both refused to acknowledge Brittany, even though she was sitting between them, it was that Santana was eating most of the cupcakes, relishing their pink icing most of all.

In Brittany's opinion, Santana had been acting strangely all week, she'd actually been carrying her own books and she hadn't been picking nearly as many fights. As for what she was doing now, Brittany had always known she had a weakness for cake but this was ridiculous.

On the plus side, it was easier to watch Santana now that they were only a small distance apart. It was nice not having to crane her neck to stare at her from the other side of the room all the time. But, in other ways, it hurt Brittany more than ever to have her so close. Santana's hand brushed against hers and it seemed to sting. Brittany wanted to cry, because she knew that Santana didn't really want to be near her, she was only here sitting with her because she had to.

After Santana managed to eat another four of Puck's cupcakes, Brittany was about five seconds away from breaking their silence and calling Santana a cupcake addict. She was beaten to the punch when Puck spoke up, having thought the exact same thing.

"You've got an addictive personality Santana," he said, winking at her knowingly.

"Do not," Santana and pouted, stuffing another cupcake into her mouth.

"You do. You're all about loading yourself up with all the thrills you can take, and then moving on to the next good thing."

"Oh yeah? So what am I doing with you then? You're hardly a thrill."

Brittany felt her heart break just a little at the subject matter of the conversation they were having over her head. She wanted so badly to just leave the table.

"Please. I know you're into the Puckasaurus. Remember last Friday night?" he winked at her suggestively.

Brittany slid further into her seat, she didn't want to know.

Santana glared at him, "Shut it Puckerman."

Puck laughed, "Santana, I don't care, okay. That wasn't my point. My point is; you're hot and cold. You'll fight your way to your next 'thing' like an addict that needs a fix, then you'll drop it like a sack of cold potatoes. We work because I don't care when you walk out on me, so long as you've gotten off, and you let me finish."

"Puck," Santana hissed, side eying Brittany to see her reaction. It was the most she'd acknowledged Brittany in some time.

"Whatever. You'll stuff yourself with these cupcakes 'til you get a buzz then you're probably go and make out with someone's boyfriend and mark him like me," Puck lifted the sleeves of his t-shirt and Brittany got a brief glimpse of deep scratch marks running down his arms.

Brittany had seen those kinds of marks on a lot of guys lately. She creased her forehead in confusion, trying to do a tally, but she realized that she couldn't count that high. Not because she couldn't actually count, but because anything past three, the magic number of pieces of logical evidence, kind of blew her mind.

"You're an addict," Puck repeated crossing his arms as if to say 'case closed'.

Brittany slunk away, hoping to disappear unnoticed. She could distantly hear Santana calling after her with a hint of desperation. Maybe that was what was different about Santana lately, she just somehow seemed more scattered and desperate. But for what reasons? This time Brittany didn't know. She focused on tonight, her second date with Mike. He had cornered her when she'd run off for a reprieve from civilization in the janitor's closet, blocking the door playfully until she had talked to him. There was no getting out of it now, because she had promised him, and she never broke her promises.

* * *

Brittany's second date with Mike was predictably, a total disaster.

"Change the station," Brittany said to Mike when Firework came on the radio.

He didn't move.

"Please Mike, change the station," she repeated feeling frozen, unable to move her hand herself.

With a quizzical look in her direction, Mike changed it. He pulled into the drive in. He hoped Mr Schuester wouldn't happen to be here to notice that he hadn't brought his wheelchair. Brittany had already lost hers at the beginning of the week. The whole Glee club was tired of 'wheelchair week'. Mr Schue was forcing them to stay in these borrowed wheechairs so they could understand what it was like to be Artie, who was permanently wheelchair bound.

Brittany had been quiet and reclusive during dinner at Breadstix, the complete opposite of how bubbly she had been last time they went out. _Maybe she didn't like me after all?_ Mike wondered.

He liked to think of himself as a nice guy, but he was tired of getting shit from the other football players about losing his v-plates. He had really been hoping that things would go well tonight. Brittany was experienced, all the girls at McKinley said so, and they had passed the knowledge on to their boyfriends on the football team. They also said Brittany had exotic taste and preferred guys from other schools. Mike knew girls weren't likely to say stuff like that unless it was true, girls never complimented each other unless they had to. He also figured that he might also fit into Brittany's 'exotic' category, being Asian and all. He was one of the very few Asian guys at their school.

"Brittany, did you have fun tonight?" he asked, leaning closer to her, ignoring the movie that was playing on the big screen.

"Yeah, I had fun," she said in that strange monotone she so often used. "Why aren't you watching the movie?" she said her voice rising slightly and becoming more expressive.

"I was hoping I could get to know you better, is all," Mike said softly, "you're not Asian, but we both love to dance so we have something in common already."

He placed a hand on her knee and Brittany tensed up, immediately dropping her gaze from his. He didn't move his hand, instead he started stroking the inside of her knee.

Brittany wanted to be anywhere else, his hand felt cold and more like a talon clawing at her. She didn't understand why Mike was being like this. Last time they went out she'd had fun, but they still barely knew each other. Mike moved closer. He was looking at her like he wanted to eat her. It made no sense to Brittany. How could he be _this_ into her when he didn't know her favorite color, her favorite song or that she had a weird little heart shaped birthmark on her leg? He didn't know that she liked Sour Patch kids and that the first and only girl she had ever kissed was Santana, and that the only boy she had ever kissed was Lord Tubbington even though he kind of tasted like smoke.  
How could Mike get to know that stuff better through kissing her? He was getting closer and closer. He was as close as Santana had been that night. He pressed his lips against hers roughly and Brittany choked back her horror at the sensation. He also smelled funny. Brittany had always been so sensitive to smells, and he smelled like spices.

_Santana does this all the time though,_ Brittany thought and steeled herself determinedly and started kissing him back. His kisses only got rougher then, and he started touching her boobs, hurting her. It took everything Brittany had not to pull away. She chanted over and over in her head that this was what normal people like Santana did. She was so tired of people making fun of her. She just wanted the people cornering her in the halls to stop. She just wanted to fit in. Like Santana.

Santana.

"Santana," Brittany breathed out as Mike's hand began pulling Brittany's hand down lower. He had just forced her to graze the bulge in his pants, when he recoiled at the unwanted mention of the dark haired Cheerio. He dropped Brittany's hand.

"What about her?"

Brittany stared at him, and realizing something she said bluntly, "Santana knows more about me than you do, so why do you get to kiss me?"

"Um," he leaned back and studied her, astonished as to why he would need to explain something like that, "look Brittany, I'm only going to kiss you. It's no big deal."

He looked really disappointed with that fact, but obviously he wasn't going to pressure her to go further, as much as he wanted to.

"It is a big deal," Brittany said sticking her lower lip out and biting down, "you're… like the time they stopped selling Sour Patch Kids for a few months because they had all gone to rehab. Eventually I realized I had to buy Gummy Bears instead and align with them as my go-to candy or I'd have nothing to suck on in class. You know, it took me ages to realize that the reason I could only find Gummy Bears was because they were actually all the 'Kids that had come out of rehab clean. I waited and waited for them to get back to their old habits, but it was almost a whole year before I could buy Sour Patch Kids again."

"What?" Mike said obviously lost.

"You're using me, Mike. You're using me just like I used Gummy Bears. I'm not your favorite thing in the whole world. You don't know me. You're not kissing my insides, you're just kissing my outsides. And I'm doing the exact same thing back to you."

"So?" he said.

"So what's the point of that? What's the point of kissing, if it's not with someone that's always in your thoughts, someone that you carry with you everyday? If a person's not inside of you, why would you want to touch their outsides?"

"Because…," Mike seemed at a loss. _Did this girl need sex drive explained to her or something? Was she insane?_ He paused, and the car was silent, only the low hum of the movie sounding in the darkness, as the couple on screen kissed.

"You know, you're weird Brittany," he said finally.

Brittany turned her head away from him and he watched her in silence as tears began to slowly leak from her eyes. She appeared to be making an obvious attempt to control herself, breathing steadily with an odd posture.

"Not in a bad way though," he added, not wanting to see a girl cry because of him, "just, different."

Brittany didn't trust herself to speak, but she made an effort, and turned halfway in his direction. She wanted to tell him he was wrong. She wanted to tell him that she was just a normal girl who was being lazy on purpose. When she felt like it, she would be able to figure out how to use doors and light switches properly and be worthy of people like Santana. Maybe then Santana would love her, and maybe she'd even marry her. Mike was wrong. Miss Pillsbury was wrong. They were all wrong about her.

She really wanted to say those things, but a part of her knew that the only one that was wrong, was her. A sob burst from her mouth and she panicked. She never let anyone but Santana see her cry if she could help it. She threw open the door, and practically jumped out of the car. She ran all the way home, going at double speed until she couldn't hear Mike's voice calling out for her anymore.

* * *

The next day, Brittany didn't help her group sell cupcakes. She left Santana and Puck to it, and went over to Kurt and Tina's table to help them sell theirs. Hardly any of theirs sold, but at least they remained on the table. Brittany watched Santana eat her own like she hadn't eaten in days.

Afterwards, Santana had rolled up in her borrowed wheelchair to Brittany's locker. Her fixed stare on her seemed dull and glassy, and to Brittany she looked as if she were actually a million miles away from here.

"Hey Britty," Santana said, "I missed you. You wanna come over so we can get our Buffy on? I've got season four waiting. We'll skip the episode with the floaty white demon guys though, I know how much they scared you last time."

Brittany's eyebrows shot up, and she looked at Santana curiously. "Okay," she said hesitantly, unsure how to react to this subdued and tired looking Santana, who didn't seem to remember they weren't talking to each other. Maybe she was having temporary memory loss.

Santana reached out her pinky to her and waited hopefully for Brittany to take it. When she did, their interlocked fingers hung between them. The height difference between Brittany standing, and Santana in the chair was a little awkward, but neither minded.

"I needs a distraction from all that stupid Puck and Quinn stuff. He cares way too much about his baby mama and he's all about running around buying her herbal tea and being on call for massages so she doesn't get stressed, and that little demon spawn inside her doesn't accidently grow two heads while it is cooking," Santana said, breathing hard in between words. "Also, i'm over his damn daddy feelings, it's making him all philosophical and stuff. This shits getting too real with him and I'm bored of it."

Brittany crouched down beside Santana's chair, partly because the dark haired girl was speaking really fast and it was getting hard to understand her, but also because she was worried and wanted to look her over and see her better. Santana's face looked flushed and Brittany could feel an unnatural heat seeping through their interlocked pinkies. Brittany moved their hands into Santana's lap, and tried to follow what she was saying.

"…And you know it's so pathetic, because she's never going to even let him see it. The only thing that concerns me, is my bet for where her waters are going to break. It's currently only a bet with myself because I only thought of it just now, and I'm yet to challenge the entire school. But when I do, and when I win, everybody is so paying up, because I so called it," Santana was speaking at an even faster pace now and her words were getting jumbled. She lifted her other hand up and started running two shaking fingers down Brittany's jaw.

"What place do you bet on?" Brittany said leaning slightly into Santana's touch in spite of herself, as a male freshman walked by staring at them, looking oddly aroused.

"On stage," Santana said, then laughed a bit too loudly, "maybe during a Michael Jackson-esque type dance break down, imagine that?"

She coughed and wrestled with a wave of nausea for a moment, until she was able to swallow it down.

She patted her lap, "Come sit with me Britts, I'll wheel you to class. Why aren't you in your wheelchair anyway?"

"I lost it," Brittany whispered as she lowered herself into Santana's lap turning sideways as delicately as possible. She felt like in any moment, Santana might snap and remember their fight and hate her again, so she barely wanted to breathe let alone speak.

"Oh. How do you lose a fucking wheelchair?" Santana laughed, the sound merry to Brittany's ears in spite of everything.

"Um… well I didn't exactly lose it … it's just there was a one legged duck at the duck pond… and… I thought it needed it more than me so I pushed it into the duck pond as a present. But then, it sunk and… created like this massive whirlpool which sucked some of the ducks into another dimension and I'm totally waiting for them to come back wearing Viking hats."

Santana didn't have the heart to correct Brittany's fantasy. She just placed her arms around her waist and pulled her tighter, adjusting her more comfortably and changing the subject back to her previous rant. "You know, those dance routines Berry's been making us practice are killer, I'm surprised Quinn's little foetus hasn't already tried to make a hasty exit just to escape some of those twirling moves."

She popped a wheelie and then made them go flying down the corridor.

"That's mean San, you shouldn't joke about that stuff," Brittany scolded her, even though she was giggling at Santana's antics.

_But I'm a creep. I'm a weirdo_

"I can't help it, I'm not a nice person," Santana said, and offered her a tight grin that didn't reach her eyes. Beads of sweat were forming against her forehead. The small burst of energy had seemingly taken a lot of out of her. "My heart's not one of the muscles in my body that ever has to work very hard."

_My tongue works way harder_, she thought, sweat collecting and giving her face a sickly looking sheen.

Brittany noticed the change in her mood, and she hooked an arm around Santana's back instinctively before she froze, realizing what she had done.

"Yes you are San, you're a nice person," she said quietly expecting to be pushed away.

The tension in Santana's tight smile relaxed, making way for an openness that Brittany hadn't seen in a long time. She relaxed into Brittany's hold on her.

Brittany snuggled into her shyly, feeling Santana's heartbeat finally slow down. "You've always been nice to me," she said willing to forget the past few months in a second, now that they were together again. _Everything was my fault anyway_, she thought.

Santana closed her eyes. For a moment, there was only peace.

Brittany couldn't stop herself. If they were talking to each other again, she had to be honest. She had no sensor, it was like a disease. It was her worse habit of all, blurting out things she shouldn't at the wrong times.

"Santana… I did stuff with Mike."

Santana's face suddenly scrunched itself up like she was in pain, but as fast as it came, it was gone.

"That's great. Party hard Britt," she nodded her head at her.

"I didn't like it," Brittany admitted.

Santana's eyes snapped open.

"What? Did he force you to do anything? I swear to god. I'll kill him," she clenched her fists angrily as if she was imagining punching him out cold.

"No… well … yeah… no," Brittany stammered, unsure.

"Hijo de tu puta madre! I swear to god Brittany. This is why you shouldn't go out with people like that. They're dogs and you're just…you're so much better than that. You're innocent and pure. You're not like me. If they've done anything to fuck that up… I will…I'll…,"

_What the hell am I doing here? I don't belong here._

Suddenly, Santana turned a strange color and threw Brittany off her lap, standing up quickly. She stood still for a couple of minutes, steadying herself against a nearby locker, her chest heaving.

"Hey, San are you okay?" Brittany asked, her eyes widening anxiously.

She barely got her sentence out before Santana ran off to the bathroom, giving no thought to the wheelchair she had tossed aside and left behind.

Brittany chased her, only a few seconds behind her. When she reached her and pushed her way through the open stall, she wasn't surprised to see Santana's head bent over a toilet bowl as she retched, emptying her stomach. When she was done she slumped over, tired and defeated. Her eyes filled with tears.

"Oh… honey," Brittany said concerned, handing her a paper towel, unable to stay away from her when she was like this. Who was she kidding? She could never stay away from Santana. Not ever. "Are you sick?" she asked as she knelt down behind her, placing her hand at the bottom of where her hair was gathered at the back, and gently scratching her back through her uniform.

"No," Santana mumbled.

_I don't care if it hurts. I want to have control._

"You're not sick?" Brittany said confused, placing both her hands on Santana's sides trying to draw her back to sit in her lap. Surprisingly, Santana willingly accepted as if she was starving for Brittany's touch and she had wanted this all along.

"No," Santana figured she should just tell her, "Britts, I've been taking pills, but the guy I've been getting them from has been away all week so I guess this is like some withdrawal or something. Either that or I'm having a bad reaction to pot-laced cupcakes, but I doubt that. And I didn't even eat that many."

"Yes you did," Brittany said automatically before she had time to process what Santana had said. Santana wasn't looking at her, choosing to find some spot on the wall to stare at.

"Yeah, okay I did. I haven't felt that hungry in the longest time, maybe it had something to do with the pills, because all of a sudden, as soon as I stopped taking them I felt like I was starving. Pot makes you hungry as well so it was like a double-whammy. Maybe I just ate too much," Santana said almost wanting to back out of this conversation. She didn't think she'd done anything wrong, but she never liked Brittany being disappointed in her.

Brittany leaned into her back and rested her head between the curves of her shoulder blades.

"Are you going to die San?" Brittany asked solemnly in that blunt way she had about her. Anyone listening to their conversation would think that by Brittany's tone of voice she didn't care, but Santana knew it was when she was the most vulnerable that her voice took on the blandest and least expressive of its tones.

"No Britt," she said reaching behind her clumsily and giving her a backwards hug. Brittany's arms came around her middle and squeezed her, but ever so gently because she knew Santana was still feeling nauseous.

They held each other like their lives depended on it for a few moments, until Santana spoke up again. "This pills thing, it's no big deal Brittany. A lot of people do it, they just don't tell you about it. A lot of people do it to have a good time, like at a party, but for me, it just makes me feel like I'm supposed to feel, you know? It makes me better. I'm not addicted or anything, I can stop anytime, it just makes things easier. It dulls all the noise in my head that tell me things I don't want to hear and it makes me more… people friendly."

_I want a perfect body. I want a perfect soul._

Brittany found Santana's hand. She thought of how she had behaved with Mike and with most of the other people at this school that had approached her from time to time. With her eyes downcast she admitted something she didn't want to think about, "I'm not people friendly either."

"No," Santana said, "I know people don't get you, but you're not like me. There's something inside of me, a part of me that is just cold. I call her Snix. She doesn't want people, she doesn't even want to learn how to care for them. Snix could easily watch someone across the street from me blow up into a million pieces and honestly not care. You couldn't. You've always cared what people thought and tried to make everyone happy. Sometimes, Snix wants to kill like half the people in this school or she just smiles and bats her eyelids to get what she wants then disappear into oblivion without a second thought about leaving them cold. You can't control people, because if anything you're more likely to connect to them. You still fit in, in a way that Snix and I just don't, and sometimes, I wish I could pull her out of me and watch _her_ blow up into a million pieces."

For a moment, all that could be heard was the sound of their breathing, and the brief rustling of fabric from the way Brittany was fiddling with Santana's top. This wasn't the place for such an intimate conversation, sitting on the cold bathroom tiles. Before Brittany could speak again, Santana lurched forward and began heaving for a second time even though she now had nothing in her stomach. Santana had just emptied her insides in more ways than one Brittany thought, not minding the situation and keeping her arms around Santana's body, trying to offer her at least that little comfort.

The desperation coming off Santana in waves that Brittany had noticed earlier was back, or maybe it had always been there and Brittany had just never noticed it before. In any case it scared her. She clung to Santana who held one of Brittany's hands in a vice grip. It was obvious that she needed something badly, but just what, Brittany didn't know.

_I want you to notice when I'm not around. You're so fucking special. I wish I was special._

_Sometimes, Santana just needed things to be real even if she wouldn't admit to it_, Brittany thought. Sometimes she needed to drop the act she always put on and show her true face because keeping it locked inside seemed to poison her after a while.

She thought back to the time they were ten and Santana had found out her dad wasn't coming back. Santana had cried herself out in her arms, but later on, she had said she felt better and that Brittany had made her feel safe. Santana always needed help that she'd never ask for.

Santana let go of Brittany's hand, stiffened and arched her back folding her arms across her chest, evidently trying to close herself off from Brittany. Her face took on an air of impassiveness and the marks of years of defenses. Brittany saw it happening this time and spun her around to face her.

_But I'm a creep. I'm a weirdo._

"No Santana," she said firmly, looking her in the eyes, the way she didn't often do, "no. You're better than that."

Santana's face became frightened and then she looked impossibly young. Brittany knew Santana had received her message loud in clear, but she still seemed to be struggling, unsure about where to put her hands and even more unsure about what to let herself feel.

"I'm right here," Brittany said softly.

For a few seconds, Brittany thought she had lost her when Santana moved to the opposite corner of the stall, her hair falling over her face which was tilted away so not to look in her direction.

_What the hell I'm doing here? I don't belong here._

Brittany looked closely and realized that she still saw only the same vulnerability that she had seen when Santana was much younger. To her, Santana looked just like she did on the day she found out her dad wasn't coming to see her at Christmas. She remembered what Santana had said to her.

"_Britts… I'm sorry if you're b…busy with it being Christmas and all… it's just… I really wanted to see you" she finally managed to get out, "and if I couldn't see you, I just wanted to sit here." _

_She needs me._ Brittany realized and immediately closed the space between them. _Sometimes, I have to meet her more than halfway._ Santana fell into her lap, lying so her head and body was across Brittany's knees turning inward to face her. As she breathed in and out, she tickled the small patch of exposed skin on Brittany's stomach where her Cheerios top had ridden up. Brittany's hands came up to rest on Santana's head and she ran her hands through Santana's dark hair, massaging her scalp gently and rubbing her fingers up and down her neck.

Santana moved closer and sobbed into Brittany's stomach, hot tears soaking into her shirt. They waited it out as Santana's entire body shook and shuddered with sobs that she had been suppressing for longer than she cared to admit. Brittany kept rhythmically stroking her hair until Santana's shaking began to cease, having cried herself into some kind of peaceful coma. She lay still, her eyes shut tight, holding a fistful of the fabric of Brittany's shirt, her body now unmoving except for her chest which was rising and falling steadily.

Neither girl was sure how long they sat there together, but Brittany only moved Santana when the bell rang to go home. Santana had muttered into Brittany's stomach that her feet her too heavy and she didn't think she could walk, so Brittany promised to carry her home the whole way. In the midst of Santana's protests about never wanting to move ever again she had lifted her onto her back, keeping Santana's hands clasped together at the front and bracing her legs.

Brittany was tired by the time they reached Santana's house. Santana was much more of a dead weight than she usually was to carry. She had hardly said anything since they left, but that was okay. Santana seemed kind of content right now, exhaling little sighs into the back of her neck now and then.

Santana turned her head to the side, looking up at the horizon. "I saw your name in the sky yesterday," she whispered.

Brittany had no idea what she meant, but she nodded anyway. "It's a pity you didn't see my face too. Because then we could have conversations like Mufasa and Simba did when they were separated," Brittany whispered back.

"Oh, I wish I'd seen your face, you would be like my mirror in the sky, giving me advice," Santana smiled, turning her head back towards Brittany's neck. Brittany _was_ like her mirror image, opposite to her in every way, yet the same. She buried her face back into Brittany's neck.

"Ooh you're cold," Brittany said as Santana's nose brushed against her jaw. She carried Santana up the stairs intending to tuck her into bed.

Santana thought maybe she should say something, but her head wasn't cooperating, she literally had no thoughts. She could function so much better on pills, than when she didn't have any. "If only you could be around all the time. If only I could keep you like the pills," she finally mumbled into Brittany's shoulder.

_Whatever makes you happy. Whatever you want._

"I think you're better than drugs, San. Even when I had some, I'd rather have had you," Brittany said, wishing Santana would say it back.

Santana didn't. She wished she could tell Brittany what she wanted to hear, that she made her feel better than drugs, but she couldn't. There was no pure natural equivalent to being on substances, because happiness in real life came with too many catches. Life could make the side effects of drugs pale in comparison. Using drugs was the only thing she knew of that could make all the bad stuff go away. Using your heart was different, if you let in all the good stuff, you let in the bad as well, and the bad was almost always, just too hard. She could use drugs, or she could use her tongue to feel good, but unless she wanted consequences, she had to spend her life hiding her heart away.

Santana realized Brittany was looking at her anxiously waiting for an answer.

"I don't want to need drugs to be with you," Santana said finally. At least that was true. She wanted her time with Brittany to be real. She'd rather be high when she was with some of the other guys at school, and sometimes even with Puck, but she'd never want to take pills to be with Brittany. Maybe it would make things easier between them, but Santana was finally beginning to see that easier didn't always mean better.

Though she didn't blame Brittany for avoiding her this past couple of months after what she'd said, her life had seemed so dark without the sunshine her best friend always brought. Even if just looking at that kind of brightness hurt sometimes, Santana knew now that the pain she felt over it, wasn't as bad as the absence of having no sunshine at all.

Pills could give her all the simulated highs in the world, but when she looked back, every time it was like it had all happened to another person. It was good at the time, but it didn't mean anything. _Sometimes I just need things to be real_, she thought, unknowingly echoing Brittany's own thoughts from earlier. _And though she deserves better than me, she's the only one who makes real life seem worthwhile,_ she thought, clutching at her tight. She would try to see the sun again. If she couldn't do it for herself, she would do it for Brittany.

_You're so fucking special. I wish I was special._

Brittany lowered her down to sit on the bed. Santana grumpily complied and let go, immediately feeling cold at the loss of contact. Brittany pulled back the covers, then noticing the other girl was shivering, she raised them up to her chin once Santana had shuffled into her spot in the middle of her bed. Leaning over, she brushed her fingers across Santana's forehead, and told her she hoped that she felt better soon.

Santana did feel better in some ways. Her insides were still twisting around, but the buzzing in her head had gone away and she felt pure and whole, like she'd come from being a chrysalis to a butterfly. She felt so much lighter knowing all was not lost; that she hadn't lost Brittany, even after all this time. She vowed for what seemed like the millionth time that she would be a better person, at least while they were together. The last few months felt like a wasted mess of regrets.

Brittany could tell Santana wanted to say something more, so she waited a few minutes, her head on one side quizzically looking at her. When Santana didn't speak, she simply walked back and sat on the edge of Santana's bed, eventually getting under the covers next to her.

_Everything about her feels so warm and inviting right now_, Santana thought, the longing spreading through every inch of her skin. Longing came with a certain tension, and as the events of the day began and the reality of the moment began to catch up with her, Santana felt her body began to regress back into a caterpillar, enclosed in its cocoon. She fought against it, willing herself to stay here with the girl she loved most, willing herself to not run away from the heat.

They lay facing each other, taking turns breathing. Santana's eyes were averted, but Brittany's were fixed on her face.

"Look at me, San?" Brittany pleaded, turning the words she'd so often heard Santana say in their childhood back at her. She understood now why Santana had always hated her staring at her feet, because looking away made her seem so disconnected from the situation. Brittany wished she could do-over all the moments where she had made Santana feel like she wasn't really with her when they were talking, just like Santana was doing back to her right now.

Santana slowly turned her head and faced her, her eyes like open doors, the regrets and constant craving stark in her brown orbs. Brittany let herself be pulled inside until Santana broke the trance, realizing that if she didn't, she want going to bolt out of here, to the nearest house, to the nearest stupid boy. She started to quietly hum a tune that Brittany recognized as the Spanish lullaby her Abuela used to sing to her as a child.

It had taken Santana years to admit that memory to Brittany.

"_What's your favorite memory from before you met me?" ten year old Brittany said, wanting to know everything about her friend._

"_No way, you'll think it's stupid!" Santana said back, crossing her arms. _

"_No I won't, you're never stupid to me, Santana." _

"_Okay, Britt don't laugh, but my favorite memory from before you was when my Abuela used to sing me Somewhere over the Rainbow. The last time she did it was ages ago, when I was just a little kid, like only three years old. There are you happy now?" little Santana said, pouting. It was pretty much the only happy memory she had from all those years she was left at Abuela's house, but still, it was a good one. _

"_I love that song Santana, but I promise I won't tell anyone anyway," Brittany said linking their pinkies together in promise, and jiggling them up and down until the other girl finally laughed. _

Santana smiled at the memory and kept humming the tune, starting to slip in some of the words, until finally she was singing whole verses, seeing how suddenly tired it was making Brittany look.

**Detras del arcoiris**

**rumbo al sol**

**mas alla de las nubes**

**hay mucho mas que amor**

Brittany yawned, all she wanted to do was sleep, days like this always took so much out of her. She caught Santana's own tired but triumphant grin. "What?" Brittany asked sleepily.

Santana grinned wider, "I'm trying to get you to fall asleep."

"Why?" Brittany managed, her half closed eyes shutting out most of Santana's face. Santana breathed a sigh of relief.

"So you'll stay," Santana lied. _So I'll stay_, she thought.

Her response seemed to trigger something in Brittany, "I'll always stay," she said sleepily, seeming to drift in and out of full consciousness. "If you really want me, you only have to ask."

Santana's smile turned into a frown, "I don't deserve you, B."

_You're so fucking special. I wish I was special._

Brittany shook her head agitatedly. "No, its me, I'm sorry I'm not…," she trailed off. "I'm sorry I don't understand anything. I'm sorry I'm not more like… But if you still want me… I'll stay."

She closed her eyes again as if in defeat.

Santana began humming again, though her voice had become strained in discomfort.

Brittany exhaled softly and listened, concentrating on breathing out and in. She kept her eyes shut tight when Santana's voice died out. In her head, she imagined Santana was still singing. Whenever she danced without music, it was always Santana's voice she heard so loud in clear in her mind.

She felt a feather light presence as the softest of kisses was pressed into her jaw. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, not daring to move. She realized that the voice she heard wasn't in her head, Santana really was whispering to her so quietly telling her she was sorry over and over.

"You're perfect, Brittany," Santana mumbled, her speech almost unintelligible, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's me, not you. Lo siento, I'm sorry."

_You float like a feather. In a beautiful world._

Brittany squeezed her eyes shut tighter as more kisses began to rain down on her face. She felt tiny bites on her neck, almost barely there, like little mouse kisses and little mouse bites.

Noticing that she had stopped breathing, Santana placed a hand on her chest waiting for her chest to eventually rise.

Understanding what she meant for her to do, Brittany inhaled and tried to breathe more normally.

"That's better," Santana murmured.

Brittany chanced the tiniest of peeks, and found Santana was leaning over her, propped up by only one arm, the other wiping away a tear from her own closed eyes.

"Te amo Britt," she whispered, saying I love you in a way she knew Brittany wouldn't understand. "Te, amo, te amo."

Neither was sure who made the first move but at the same time they both pressed their bodies together, tangling themselves up in each other. Brittany's last thought before sleep overcame her was that she had no idea where her body began and where Santana's finished. The contrast in skin color was the only way to tell who was who, and with her eyes closed Brittany couldn't tell if the leg she just brushed against was hers or not.

She would never be able to tell herself apart from Santana. They were too closely intertwined in Brittany's mind. She couldn't see herself, because she was too invested in Santana, her focus was too far from her own self. Maybe that was Brittany's own addiction she had to fight, or at least her own journey she had to take. She fell asleep realizing that Santana had told her she was nice. She may be stupid, but at least she was nice. It comforted her to think there was something more to her than just red F's and misunderstandings. There _was_ something more to her, she was than her relationship with Santana, though right now, as they lay entangled with Santana's body pressed so close against hers, it didn't seem like anything else existed in the world.

Listening to the sound of Brittany's even breathing, Santana felt her own eyes finally closing. She had been up many nights this week because she didn't see the point in sleeping because she knew she'd only have nightmares and wake up tired afterwards. In the safety of Brittany's arms which brought about the peacefulness and stillness of her own mind, a dreamless sleep finally found her.

* * *

**Three (long) things:**

**1. This isn't a 'drug addict falling to pieces' story. I _could_ write more about the effects of Santana and recreational drugs and what she specifically went through, but I don't know yet how much will actually end up being put in, because it's not the focal point of the story. It happened, it definitely had consequences, but Santana was never dependant on just one thing for her addictions, and while I'm sure Dexedrine has probably sadly ruined many other lives and relationships, as it happened it was like a visitor that popped in and out of our lives because she'd start, move on to something else, then go back to it. It's hard to explain, but when someone jumps from addiction to addition, be it boys, Puck, Dexedrine or... literally anything that filled the space in her head even if it was skydiving, it's kind of more like you're _not_ an addict for drugs, you're an addict for '_somethings.'_ It's harder for any one thing to gain control over you when you change things so fast and divide yourself between them. It feels more like you're at the mercy of yourself, rather than at the mercy of one drug.**

**Some people even take other drugs as like a patch to cure other addictions.**

**But there are no pills for addictions to 'the next thing.'**

**And for me, there were no pills for my addiction to Santana. Hence the title. **

**I still don't know what to think of the whole thing. I don't judge her, I just want her to be happy and healthy.**

**2. For me, it wasn't actually pseudoephedrine, it was an anti-anxiety drug "Miss Pillsbury" gave me after seeing the 'I am stupid'-esque pages in my diary at the time. There _are_ bumps in the road to becoming unicorn, and all that self doubt was definitely some big ones.**

**I pretty much refused to take it after only a week. She said it was a 'short term' drug. All I could think about was that I'd still be "Brittany" in the long term, so why keep bothering with them? After that I was tempted with drugs many times, occasionally by "Santana" when she wasn't thinking straight, but I could never bring myself to 'cheat'. I knew I had at least some sort of potential to learn how to function better by myself without the aid of substances. Here's a metaphor. I saw giving into temptation the same as allowing someone to push me around in a wheelchair every day, I may have not been doing too great, I may have been crawling around at the time, but I knew I could walk if I kept trying. The easy way out, wasn't fair to people who really had to be in wheelchairs, and there would be consequences or side effects to wheelchairs too, like you saw how hard it was for the characters on the show to use them. I don't know if that's the best metaphor, but I had a go anyway. **

**Note: I respect that there are many people out there who really do need drugs to correct chemical imbalances in their brains and other serious problems, and I know that situation is very different. That's not recreation, that's medication.**

**3. It's not just Disney, unlikely animal friendships in real life are the best! I love this tumblr page.**

**unlikelyfriendshipsbook. tumblr. com (take the two spaces out)**

**I have absolutely no idea what she meant by "I saw your name in the sky" while I carried her home. She said it several times like it was really important, so I explained it away in this story with some Disney and a Landslide reference, but really it's an unsolved mystery that still bugs me even today, because I asked her what she meant a few days later and she didn't remember.**

**And here is a very peppy sounding version of Santana's lullaby, the Spanish version of Somewhere over the rainbow. /watch?v=4G3Q979CSCI**

**I couldn't find anyone else singing it. "Santana" did sing that song to me though when I was sad and she has the same childhood history with it as well. But, even though she was totally all about closed eyes and secret codes, she actually stuck with English for that one. For the story I wanted to keep up the trend of Santana expressing herself in Spanish.**

**The song I featured was "Creep" by Radiohead. It's one of Santana's favorite songs. **

**Lastly, if anyone didn't understand why Brittany was calling a legend, a 'foot' at the beginning, try breaking the word legend in half and then taking it literally. :P**


	14. I Just Want To Dance With You

**prattle01 - I don't think your explanations suck at all! I would never have guessed English is your second language. I kind of feel like English is my second language sometimes too because I don't understand a lot of jokes and sarcasm, and also especially after when I've just said something a bit random and people have no idea what I've just said. Anyway, thanks for what you said, it means a lot to me. :) I'll miss you on your internet shutdown, no internet access sounds even worse than Blaine losing access to hairgel for two weeks. :P **

**Puff614- I hope you had so much fun on vacation (and I also hope your loved ones left behind didn't get lost in the sewers!). Kurt actually manages to guest star in this chapter, and I'm pretty sure he'll turn up again in some future chapters too. :) Also, I guess my title already kind of gives away the fact that Brittany's going to believe she's unicorn one day, so rest assured. Besides, it would be pretty lame if I had to call it 'The Road to Horse' or 'One Way Ticket to Equestria' … or if she stayed uncertain like she is now right until the end, I guess I could have used Brittany Spears song titles for inspiration and called it 'Not a horse, not yet a Unicorn.' Haha, glad to see you back! **

**xoxo - I did kind of realize after I posted, that Chapter 13 was a bit of a rushed mess in parts. I was trying to cover too much stuff, and the worst thing I did was completely omit Santana's perspective, so this chapter was all about trying to make up for that and your comments helped so much! Also, I fixed that part about Kurt's mom right away, near disaster there! It always seemed to take forever, but Santana usually managed to drag out a proper sorry and accept the consequences of her actions… eventually, so I hope she manages to make it out of the doghouse this time round. :) As for the pills, even though it would help the story I still don't know how to fix the randomness of it, in real life there was no gateway through "Mrs Schuester" for her, it was even more random because it just… suddenly happened and then they were there in the background like they had been there all our lives. She wasn't the only one at all, many, many people in my area did/do pills like that, though I still feel they all have the fastest land speed of any animal. **

**Taeblancaxoxo – I think a lot of people got lost on the drug bit, probably also because "Brittany" really didn't react much to it. Brittany didn't really understand what the pills even were at the time actually, her basic understanding in the last chapter was only that: Santana was sick and she had to take care of her. Anyway, I'm glad you found it beautiful, always glad to hear from you. :)**

**Miara848 – Haha, in real life, she said it that first time in French, which is: Je t'aime, I think. She'd usually switch between French, Spanish and Italian to tell me stuff like that, but I'm making her just stick to Spanish in the story. And I too, had the biggest grin on my face the day I first found a translator on google. I spent all day typing in 'those strange words' she'd said that I'd written down in my diary or just… remembered. Anyway, I loved your reaction to the chapter, thanks for feeling stuff with me. **

**SuperCarmen – It's funny you said the happy/sad thing, because people always seem to have conflicting opposite responses to stuff I do like I said in the first chapter. I'm glad you liked it!**

**Thank you to guest for cheering me up as well. I was having a really bad day when I got that review (it was actually over "Santana" stuff too) so I really appreciated the support, and it was super cool because it was your first post to anyone on this site :) **

**Anyway, I took longer to write this because I feel like I'm having issues telling this story at the moment. There's just so much going on in this part. When I lived it, I was just so confused, and now reliving it, I'm feeling the exact same confusion. I feel like if I can straighten it out in my head, I can also maybe put the past to rest. It was also kind of a shock to me to realize now as I see it on paper, that Santana did treat me quite badly in these times. When I went through it, my understanding always stopped at 'I am hurt' (and even getting there was hard), and didn't extend very much at all to anger at how I'd been treated, however I was occasionally angry at how she treated herself. It sounds a bit crazy, because I'd sit there hurting, yet most of the time I _couldn't_ or _refused_ to connect that feeling to her. It could have been because of autism, but when you don't feel that anger, you don't actively disapprove enough of what's happening to go "Wow, she is treating me badly," you just end up going "I must be going crazy, why does everything hurt?" Our fights didn't always have consequences to 'us' because many times I just took them to heart and suffered privately, but then refused to let them affect our connection. This was our first big fight, and there _was_ a resolution, but I have to admit the truth, in other fights there wasn't always one. There were many times where we'd fight, we'd split for a time, she'd come back as if nothing happened, then the next step wouldn't happen, there were no consequences for her… and I may end up including at least one of those times yet and last week I got worried about how people would take it. **

**I understand that people reading this whose brains function better than mine did, might get angry at her in my place, and that's okay because… that helps me understand what things I should and shouldn't put up with… it's just…sometimes she'll do some really unlikeable things that I've still got written down to include in later chapters, and I don't want people to stop reading because they're angry at her! So that was my problem last week, I missed my update time because I was obsessing about not wanting to lose you guys. :) **

**I ended up writing a short 'essay' on Santana's character. After I wrote it I felt like I had straightened myself out enough to write this chapter, haha. I included it, just in case people are interested. You can find it at the very end of this page. **

* * *

**Chapter 14 – I Just Want To Dance With You**

**Brittany S Pierce, Present. **

Things had changed for me. It all happened _gradually but suddenly_.

Before I knew it, I had new people around me, all clamoring for my time. They may not have understood me like Santana did, and there was no almost electrical connection between us, but they were there, they accepted me, and they were consistent. I needed that.

At the same time, my relationship with her had changed too. We'd fallen out of sync and were finding it hard to fit back into each others lives. I'd never had my own life before. In the past it was like I had always been on standby waiting for her to come to me, willing to drop everything to fit in with her. After our time of silence she came back in my life, but when she looked around for me, she didn't find me 'waiting around' for her like usual. It shook things up and it made her think.

_Gradually but suddenly_ I had started making tiny baby steps to come into my own person. I didn't know it then, but I had just begun down a road of my own, instead of trailing after her down hers.

But, I feel like there was a path we should have taken together, you know? In a perfect world we would have _gradually but suddenly_, ended up in the same place instead of clinging to each other standing in two different worlds.

Most of all, _gradually but suddenly_, I felt like she had lost her mind. Oh, I'd seen all the signs that she was struggling, but it's more of a sudden hit that shows you the change, sort of like if you watch someone grow a tiny bit every day and you don't notice, but then one day you just look at them and you just… see.

I think life seems mostly random at first glance, then you look harder and see that most things do have a natural progression, even if we are only given the smallest of clues. Even if those around us barely have any insight at all, the links are all there.

Santana, where did you become so destructive? Was it set in motion by your childhood, was it the choices you made? Was it Tomas or Ben?

Did I enable you by standing by and watching you make many of those choices?

I had long since graduated high school before _gradually but suddenly_, I realized that Santana had always been just a little bit _too good_ at escaping into her mind when people were hurting her.

Even back when it had only been Tomas and Ben, she had always dealt with those times of stress by blocking it out. Every time she encountered someone who was rough or controlling during sex like them, her body still screamed fight or flight, but her mind went elsewhere.

What scared me, was that going someplace else in her head when she was touched seemed like a natural reaction to her. It was even scarier when she was older, and she began to seek those kinds of experiences out. She called people who were degrading and borderline abusive in the bedroom 'a good thing' and an 'addictive escape'. It was an equal substitute to taking pills, because both escapes let her lose herself to the point where she had almost no memory of those times at all.

It makes me wonder if she'd had to do that before, and if sexual abuse was just something she'd grown up with. Had she had to repress bad memories long ago before I'd even come into her life? Why was this all so natural to her, why was she so convinced that this was just how life had to be?

Did someone hurt you Santana? Was it your dad, or your uncle that isn't around anymore either? Did your dad crawl into bed with you sometimes at night? Did you have to pretend it wasn't happening because you love and admire him so much? Is that why when he left, your mom blamed you, even though you were only so tiny? I guess you don't remember, any more than you remember those nights in motels with Puck's friends from juvie, who thought that 'a consensual act' was such a loose term.

I have no proof, because if anything happened, it happened before I knew her. Neither of us have seen more than a glimpse of her dad since we were kids.

All this is, are clues and signs that may still lead to nothing.

All I had, was a sense that I had never known Santana completely whole, and that was strange because we met when we were only seven years old.

I saw hidden amongst her striking beauty, what to me at age sixteen, seemed like a never ending sickness which was now spreading through her _gradually but suddenly_, its roots clearly already planted in her so long ago.

I will never know the truth, and I will never ask her, but just between you and me, it still eats me up inside.

* * *

**Brittany S. Pierce, age 16**

"I don't know, maybe the blue?" Brittany said absently, as she walked towards the gates of the cemetery. She held tight to the string of the helium balloon she had with her, even though it was still securely knotted around her wrist.

"The Armani? Are you nuts?" Kurt said pausing at the gate. He didn't really want to go in. These annual visits to his mother's grave were never easy.

"Probably," she agreed, taking him literally.

"Okay, yes, you may have a point there. But seriously, you think the blue? It's my first sort-of solo for Glee club and I wonder if such somber attire is appropriate."

"I don't know what I think," Brittany moaned, "I don't know what to think about anything. My head hurts. There are so many things to think about and not enough facts or conclusions."

Kurt pushed open the gate and then paused, swinging it back and forth. "You've been like this ever since Santana came back," he said carefully, "I've noticed."

Brittany shrugged.

"I don't think she's good for you." He stilled his movements and leaned against a post thoughtfully.

"Santana is good for me. She's the best thing in my life," Brittany said. The glare on her face said _fierce_, yet her voice had taken on the blandest of its monotones.

"Brittany, ever since you both had that big fight, your grades have been slipping, and no offense, but you don't really have room to lose what little you've managed to maintain in that department. I thought maybe if she came back then maybe you would get better, but you're more unfocused than ever."

"Getting good grades is harder now, because she hasn't been helping me after school." She shuffled from foot to foot, making an effort to keep her hands by her sides.

"No," he corrected. "You'd be surprised at what you could do without her. Your grades fell because you spent all your time staring at her in class and not enough time listening. You were too upset to think straight. And now she's back, I don't know what's going on with you but you're more confused than ever. It's like I'm hanging out with Spacey McRainbows on a really cloudy day."

Brittany was silent.

"Come on, if something bothering you, you can tell me," he said affectionately, brushing against her shoulder with his own.

"I broke one of my rules," Brittany said glumly, jerking away from his touch. She didn't deserve any kindness right now.

"Your… rules?" he questioned.

"Yes. I have rules. My mom used to make them for me, but a couple of years ago I decided to stop listening to her and make them myself. I broke one really important one about being a good friend."

_Always accept your friend and support everything they do no matter what. _

"Please elaborate Britt, I'm guessing you're talking about Santana, and I can't see what you mean. It always looks like you go above and beyond for that girl, and put up with a lot of crap, though why you do that, I truly have no idea."

"I broke that rule because my thoughts are bad."

Kurt turned his hands over in a rolling motion, his own language for wanting more information.

"I'm thinking things about Santana that goes against that rule. I thought if I could only get her back then everything would stop hurting. But, when she holds my hand it still hurts and I don't know why. You'd think being with her would make me happy wouldn't it? But it doesn't. I don't know what's wrong with me. If it hurts to touch her, then maybe I'm judging her, and she hates that, so that means I must be breaking the rule," Brittany said all in one breath.

"I think you're hurt, Brittany."

"No I'm not. Santana would never hurt me," Brittany said immediately, denying it at point blank. She didn't want Kurt to think Santana was a bad person, but most of all she couldn't bear to associate something bad like that with Santana in her own mind. Thinking that Santana did bad things, made her a bad friend. Even thought it made her uncomfortable, it was easier to quickly deny it before she could even get to thinking about whether it was a lie or not.

Kurt shrugged. "She's hurt me. She's teased me about being gay heaps of times and she always goes on about how I'm not all masculine and tough like Finn and Puck like it's a bad thing."

Brittany looked torn. She hoisted herself on top of the gate beside Kurt. "Love means never having to say you're sorry," she quoted.

"Love means having to say you're sorry every fifteen minutes," Kurt countered. It was a John Lennon quote. Whenever he felt emotional, the Beatles were never far. He had played Brittany his 'Across the Universe' soundtrack earlier today because he always listened to at least one Beatles related album on his Mom's birthday. Together, they had sung along to 'Hey Jude' and 'Let it be'.

"Love isn't all black and white," he told her. "You can't just use rules. Sometimes they apply and sometimes they don't. Sometimes, you need to unconditionally accept Santana, and well, for gods sake somebody has to, but you can unconditionally accept a person without loving their choices. I've seen and heard enough about her these past few months to know that she's a destructive girl, and even if she only means to hurt herself, other people like you still get in the way. Those times that you get caught in the crossfire build up, especially if she doesn't say sorry and refresh, so you can both go back to the start."

Brittany looked at him blankly.

"So that's why I think that it's a good idea for people to say sorry all the time," he finished, hoping she understood at least half of what he said.

"Santana doesn't really use that word. She says it gives her heartburn. I've seen it. When her mom made her say sorry when we were kids she would feel real bad inside and she'd get all sweaty and hold her chest like it hurt. You can only get heartburn when someone you love is disappointed with you. It's because you love them so much."

For a moment he seemed confused, then understanding flashed across his face. "I think that's called 'shame', Britt, I feel like that sometimes when I don't come to dad's lame family friday night dinners. It hurts right here to do that to him," he said touching his chest.

"Well, whatever it was, I was the only one who knew the magic words to make her feel better afterwards, but it depended on which strange words her mom had said to her," she explained.

"How so?" Kurt raised an eyebrow at her.

"Well, for example, if her mom yelled at her and said 'You worthless bitch, you better tell me you're sorry right now', then I had to say 'You're not a worthless bitch Santana,' and then I'd hug her until the heartburn went away," Brittany explained, her voice changing to have a thick accent while she had spoken as Santana's mother.

"I try not to mind when she can't say sorry now we're all grown up because she still gets really bad heartburn, especially when she knows she's done something wrong."

Kurt nodded.

"I don't have any magic words anymore, so it's kind of my fault that she won't say sorry right? Because if I don't know the cure, then how am I supposed to help her stop hurting, Kurt? If I tell her my bad thoughts, then she might think I'm disappointed in her and she always takes my opinion to heart. Heartburn can turn into heart attacks, just from loving too much," Brittany moaned, putting her hands to her head and pressing them to her temples. "I don't want her to have a heart attack from feeling all that... um…."

"Shame," Kurt supplied, "really, it's something everybody feels, and it's not a medical condition, Britt, though it does sound like she's had it rough with her family. It's never easy when the people we love set out to make us feel so small, it throws everything out of balance I guess."

"Yeah," Brittany nodded earnestly, "she's had too much practice with heartburn so it comes on faster and bigger with her than it does with other people. She's kind of like people who have had their immune systems worn down by…"

"But…," he cut in, "my point stands. I know it's complicated, but if nobody ever says sorry, then the hurt builds up, until we can't touch each other without crying."

They sat in silence, swinging on the cemetery gates looking at the headstones in the distance. Two bird flew overhead. Brittany thought they kind of looked like turtledoves, so they must be in love. She hoped they stayed together forever. Just thinking about it, made her feel like she'd just been punched in the stomach. Why couldn't she and Santana be like those birds?

"Okay," Brittany whispered, deflating, "Maybe you're right and I am hurt. I'm hurt because things aren't the same as they used to be even though she's always around again. I never know what side of her I'm going to get. It's like I'm constantly preparing myself for the worst and it's ruining the best. I feel awful for even thinking about her this way. I wish there wasn't a whole other part of her life that I'm not part of_." Sometimes, I even wish Snix didn't exist_, she thought, feeling like she was horrible for even thinking it.

"You know, I get where you're coming from, because I feel the same about Finn," he sympathized, catching her around the waist and pulling her down from the gate.

They walked inside the cemetery. There were identical fresh flowers on all the front graves. Brittany wondered if all the families had got together and made a flower fund so no matter what, anyone in the flower club could always rest assured that someone would be making their loved ones' place-of-rest look beautiful. Kurt wondered if the undertaker had shelled out on some cheap flowers to give people who were walking by, and not looking too closely, the illusion that people actually cared and took care of this place.

"Finn and I," Kurt began, "we don't have what you and Santana have, but he was my knight in shining armor for so long because he was so brave, he used to stand up to all the bullies for me but now he just…um…."

He looked her over curiously. "Brittany, what are you doing?"

"Holding my breath," Brittany choked out.

"Why on earth would you do that?"

"Because we're in a cemetery and it's rude to breathe when the dead can't," she said expelling the last of her air with the effort, and beginning to turn red.

Kurt laughed. "They don't mind."

"Not even your mom?" Brittany asked.

"No, especially not her," Kurt said as they approached her grave. Kurt stood beside it, his thoughts on his mother and Finn. If she were alive, he could ask her for some advice, though she'd probably give him the same advice he was giving Brittany, and tell him that Finn wasn't good for him. He sighed.

"Santana likes it here," Brittany said suddenly, kneeling down and tracing the headstone. "She comes here without me a lot."

Kurt wrinkled his nose. Brittany never seemed to get off of the Santana subject, but then again, it wasn't like he was doing much better with getting his thoughts off Finn. He had to admit though, talking about Santana was better than thinking about the fact his mother had nearly been dead for eight years now. He never liked these annual trips all that much, they were too hard, he was glad to have Brittany here as a distraction. "Why would she come here, Britt? For fun? To vandalize some graves?"

"She said here is the safest place on earth. She said nobody can hurt you here, everyone is finally at peace. She has no idea why people are afraid of this kind of place, because it's the only place you can't get hurt."

"Santana may be even stranger than you," he noted. He could see her logic, but what kind of girl wanted to wander around the cemetery all day instead of being with the living?

"She dances here," Brittany said, "it's the safest place for her to dance."

"She… dances?" He had kind of figured out early on that Brittany had her own language, but it had taken him a while to realize that she not only used the word 'dance' for movements of the body, she also seemed to use it to explain the sensation of the times she got pleasantly lost in her mind. He'd seen how she could turn all her frustration into movement, and he'd seen the tranquil kind of vacant expression she had when she really let her body take over her mind. Sometimes, when he'd catch her in class staring out the window, she'd tell him that she'd just been 'dancing' then too, so she must have some really good daydreams. _Forget your troubles, come on, get happy_, he thought. _And, just dance._

"Yeah. I wish she'd come here more often and be peaceful here. I wish she'd stop using those pills to dance," Brittany said, crossing her fingers the minute she had made the wish as if that really made a difference.

Kurt nodded. He'd heard so many drug rumors going around lately. Mostly, he'd heard through the grapevine that Puck had gotten a hold of a stash of uppers somehow and was spreading them around to the football team. He had no doubt that this had something to do with Santana because she always seemed right in the middle of any trouble. He'd also heard that she'd been looser lately, inviting several guys over at once and not really caring what they'd ask her to do. _What a way to 'dance'_, he thought, feeling a moment of sympathy for the girl who had to escape her own body in those ways just to feel a moment of peace. He had a feeling that she was 'dancing' to escape from more than just 'heartburn.'

Brittany clenched her fists, realizing that she was suddenly feeling the same sensation she had in the science lab when Kurt had grabbed her wrists to stop her from punching the wall.

"That's what's really been bothering me," she said, hanging her head in shame, making an effort to calm herself.

"Hmm? The pills?" _This was all very revealing_, he thought.

"Not just them, I mean everything she does that ends in her getting hurt. I feel hurt by the way she left things between us, but I'm mad because she won't let me show her another way to dance. We could dance together," Brittany said angrily. "I'm mad because she's so brave and she's not being brave anymore. But most of all I'm mad at me because I should be with her right now. I shouldn't be leaving her alone because I think she's sick, Kurt. I don't think it's 'a sick that you can see' or anything," she said quoting what she'd said about herself once in Dr Lopez's office so many, many years ago.

Kurt looked at her, concerned. This all sounded like quite a mess to him, and he didn't like seeing Brittany so upset. He sensed there was more to it, so he patted her shoulder to encourage her. "You can tell me your thoughts," he said.

"I think that if this is the only way she can dance, then she's still sick, and that's another one of my rules I've broken," Brittany said, beginning to twist her hands around.

_Always take care of Santana when she's sick._

"I've got no right to be mad because she's just doing the best she can do, but it's like she never tries to make it any easier for herself. I… just… feel like her life is an endless battle, but I've become the only one fighting it," Brittany stammered, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them.

_When she does dance it's not like it should be, she only gets sicker_, she thought thinking of the consequences of Santana's brief escapes from her mind. She pictured Santana's lost fragile expression when she finally came back to earth after a night out with the boys. She thought of the headaches and the nausea she'd get during a comedown from the pills, even though she had since never been as sick as the first time.

_Why won't she let me show her how to dance?_ she thought.

"Don't you think you're overreacting a little," Kurt said, though he wasn't sure if that was true.

Brittany's face took on an expression of tension as she tried to think of a way to explain it to him.

If the vibe wasn't so intense, Kurt would have found her almost comical. She was so exaggeratedly serious that she kind of reminded him of a cartoon character, he could practically see the gears in her mind working overtime.

"Before I got into hip-hop, I was really into ballet, and more than anything I wanted to dance _en pointe_," she finally said. "My teacher said 'no', because I was too little and not experienced enough, but I took a pair from the supply room at my dance classes anyway, and I kept practicing with them over and over in private, until my feet were so sore and blistered that they bled."

"It felt wonderful at first to dance in those shoes, but then when I took them off I had to deal with the aftermath and that wasn't fun at all, but it did it anyway because I wanted to be like the girls in Swan Lake. The ballerina girls on stage weren't just dancers, they could fly across the stage like magic, and I wanted to be magic too. Except, every time I tried it, my feet would get just a little bit more swollen and bloody, until eventually I twisted my ankle really bad and I had to limp to school, dragging my feet like they were useless. I covered the worst of it with band-aids but there was only so much band-aids could do."

"Then, the next time I put my pointe shoes on, I saw blood staining the bow on the front and I realized I had to stop because those precious moments where I could sort-of fly were ruining me. There are ways to dance that can destroy you. What if, instead of my feet, it's her heart that's getting all bloody until it's as broken as useless as my feet were? What if she can't stop what she's doing like I did, and never lets herself heal so she can find another way to dance? Sometimes, I think that as long as she makes that 'leap into the air', nothing else matters to her. Sometimes I get tired of being 'her band-aid' because I know I can't protect her forever, I'm just letting her keeping on 'dancing', and I wonder sometimes, if she'll dance herself to death, just like the swans I loved so much in the ballet."

Kurt nodded. "I hear you, Britt. But if that's how it's going to be, then you're too involved. It's like you give that girl ninety percent of your brain and ten percent is left for everything else. If she falls, then you're going to fall too. In a way, you're right up there performing that never-ending ballet with her."

He never could tell what Santana was about to do. But Kurt Hummel was sure of one thing, if Santana was going to take herself down, he wasn't going to let her take Brittany down with her. He would try to keep the two apart somehow, at least enough for Brittany to separate herself from this mess to at least keep some of her own sanity. _That was of course, assuming she had some to start with, she definitely is a worry sometimes,_ he thought. His face softened as he looked at Brittany's tear stained face. She was clutching the string of the helium balloon she'd brought to her chest.

Brittany nodded and then shook her head. She didn't know what he meant. She had no idea what day it was lately.

Kurt simplified it. "I know you're concerned about Santana, but I've got a new rule for you Britt," he said, "it's called 'Always be careful with your heart' because sometimes you have to put yourself first. Try not to let her take you over so much. I think about Finn all the time too. But I don't let him take me over."

Brittany nodded. They were both the same in a way, in love with people they couldn't have. Finn wasn't open enough to consider Kurt, and Brittany couldn't understand that. People were just people to her, regardless of their body parts. She didn't care about other people's dumb rules that tried to tell her who she could, and couldn't kiss.  
Both Santana and Finn had had it drilled into them by the world that they had to like the opposite sex. But Santana's brave and challenged that, Brittany thought._ But Finn hasn't. He's too dumb to challenge anything. _  
He just didn't think, even when there was a perfectly good unicorn standing right in front of him, she thought appraising Kurt. She'd asked him to take over Santana's presidency of the Unicorn club until she came to her senses, and he'd nodded enthusiastically even though he hadn't known what to do.

She wanted to do something nice for him.

She knelt by his mother's grave. "Hello Mrs Hummel," she said, "I like your son. He teaches me lots of Beatles songs because he says they remind him of his family before you died. I guess you all used to live in a yellow submarine, right? I think that's cool. He says you're always watching over him and that sometimes, when he's busy you might watch over me too, so when he's in the bathroom or something feel free to come on over."

She considered this again. "Come on over, but not If I'm in the bathroom too, because that would be like this one time when I really wanted to get dressed 'cause I had to go out, but Lord Tubbington wouldn't leave my side, and I had to wait him out 'til he got hungry and left for the kitchen, because I didn't want him to see me naked. Oh, it wasn't because I'm like super shy around him, it was more because cats _always_ talk to each other. Don't get me wrong, the problem wasn't exactly that Lord T might talk about my titties to Senor or to Tiddles down the road. I don't really care about cats talking amongst themselves, because it's not like the people who overhear that stuff can understand cat language. The problem, Mrs Hummel, is that cats _do_ also talk to parrots, and that other people actually understand parrots. So that's why I had to wait for Lord Tubbington to go for dinner because I didn't want to be having cake and tea with my grandma one day and then hear Polly, her parrot, talking about the size of my boobs. It's already embarrassing enough to hear Polly repeat the secrets that Lord Tubbington's found in my diary!"

Kurt nodded solemnly, attempting to stifle his laughter. _We've got a live one here mom_, he thought.

"Anyway, Mrs Hummel, what I meant was, please come visit me, but don't come when I'm naked or doing secret stuff like kissing Santana, because I know you're an angel, and angels talk to god, and even if you don't talk to him, he still just might yet turn out to be an evil telepathic dwarf named Doctor Psycho," she concluded, referring to villian adversary of her secret crush, Wonder Woman. _Santana would look so awesome in a Wonder Woman costume_, she thought.

At the words 'kissing Santana', Kurt choked on his stifled laughter. He hadn't been expecting that bit of truth to come out just then. _This is indeed very revealing_, he thought for the millionth time since they had started talking.

Brittany took a deep breath. "I have something for you," she said, and untied the heart shaped balloon with its typical hallmark message from her wrist and let it go.

"Happy Birthday. This might take a while to get to you in heaven, so I wish I'd sent it off earlier this week."

She looked at Kurt who was now looking at her with an unreadable expression. He had wondered exactly what she was going to do with that balloon.

"Be careful with your heart, Britt," he repeated smiling at her. "I always want you to be fearing parrots and sending balloons up into heaven."

Brittany smiled back. He was kind of strange when he said things like that. As long as parrots kept up with the gossip she would fear them, and as long as people kept dying, she would keep sending them balloon mail, there was no question about that.

_I'll try my best to keep an eye on her, _Kurt thought, looking up into the sky and shielding his eyes. The balloon was almost too high to be seen already. _Hope you like the balloon, Mom, and don't worry, I really will try to protect her._

* * *

"Fish sticks, fish sticks you're so nice-y, I like you more than Lauren Zizes, you come from a trout then slice and dice-y, then you come in boxes, plain and spicy. When I can't decide I need adv…"

"Britts, are you singing to your fishsticks _again_?" Santana said, collapsing beside her at their regular table in the cafeteria.

"Well, yeah. Sometimes I worry that my life is actually a TV show and that people are watching me do all this everyday stuff, like trying to choose between fishstick flavors. It must get really boring, so I try to give them some better material. Sometimes, like today, I even sing just in case they want to make my life into a musical. Do you want to hear the song I wrote to my cup? It's kind of a work in progress though…"

Santana shook her head and grinned at her. "I missed you today," she said, "and yesterday after school and in Glee club… and like all week. Why didn't you sit with me?"

"Tina keeps asking me to sit with her," Brittany mumbled, "she wanted to tell me about her new cat. It's Li Hua breed and it speaks the same language that Tina's parents speak at home sometimes, which makes it the first cat that I can hardly understand. Anyway, I said I would sit with Tina and talk about it, and I don't break promises."

"But, you're mine," Santana said, frowning at her. She'd never had to fight anyone for Brittany's attention before.

Brittany nodded, but before she could speak, Kurt came up from behind them both, and interrupted the conversation.

"You don't own her, Santana," he argued, "and it's not like you've had a steady reputation of being around lately, either."

Santana whirled on him. "Hummel, I'd crack your nuts, but you don't have any, so instead I'll settle for…"

"Santana!" Brittany hollered in her ear.

Kurt shrugged at Brittany and mouthed 'good luck', taking a seat beside Mercedes at another table, while still keeping her in sight.

Making an obvious effort to calm down, Santana turned back around to face her.

"Look, I know I've been a bitch," she said, hoping Brittany would interrupt, and then reassure her by disagreeing like she always did.

When the other girl said nothing, a sick feeling overcame her like something had transpired in her absence that she was unaware of. Santana had never intended for any of this to happen between them. She knew it had all started when they fought. After she'd yelled at Brittany, she'd felt so guilty that she'd gone straight to Puck's house and he'd invited a few other guys over and they'd done some pot together, and she'd got her 'poisonous snake' on again with all of them at once. It was a move she was becoming famous for.

Those were the times she didn't remember. It was like there was a hole in her mind. So often, her memories skipped from after school to the next day. Santana hated night time anyway, the stillness always got to her, especially when she couldn't sleep.  
When her family was home it was even worse. She either had to play nice to Craig and Tomas, or argue with her mom. It was always at least one of those scenarios. If they noticed she disappeared after dinner and never came back to watch TV with them, then they never said anything.

All she really had to show, memory-wise from the time she and Brittany had spent apart was a few blurs and flashes here and there. The rest wasn't even worth mentioning. The pills did help with that, but Santana knew the reason she couldn't remember much was because she didn't want to. As soon as Santana let 'Snix' take over, she could escape into oblivion, and as far as she was concerned, Snix could keep the memories, too. Santana didn't want them, and she worked hard to shake them off. It was easy to forget things when you denied so hard that they even happened. From what she allowed herself to recall, the guys Puck had brought over had all been kinds of rough. One guy wasn't from their school, she couldn't remember his name, it might have been Johnny? Puck had probably met him in juvie. He had basically told her not to talk which was fine with her and she was pretty sure he'd been the one to tie her up. She'd spent more time with him in the past few months than she had her own mother, but if she never saw him again she'd probably consider it a good thing.

In between, she'd gone out with some of the guys on the hockey team and turned everything she was getting back on them. It felt good to be the one taking advantage of other people sometimes. She was all about spending their money, making them do whatever she wanted for the hell of it, and then dumping them somewhere. _At least... it felt good at the time_, she thought.

The more she'd lost herself in those months and the more she'd come to hate herself, the more impossible it had felt to break back into life with Brittany. She'd watched her, the picture of innocence writing in that little heart shaped diary of hers with a fluffy pen. She watched her throw her head back, giggling and laughing with Kurt. She'd watched her wear those stupid rainbow toesocks that clashed with everything in the beginning, then without Santana's influence she'd progressed into outfits that that barely even matched at all, until she kind of looked like a rainbow threw up on her.  
She'd also watched her haul yet another baby bird around school, trying to conceal it. She knew that Brittany justified keeping it, because in her mind she'd _only_ promised Miss Pillsbury, no more lost birds would be found in her _locker_, but the teacher never said anything about her _schoolbag_. Other times, Santana had taken care to always look away, it had been too painful, like looking out the window from a room you could never leave. A room you, shouldn't leave, for the good of people like her. She'd wanted to talk to her so bad, but the longer she'd left it, the harder it had become.

She had kept protecting her, threatening all potential offenders that she had caught looking the wrong way at Brittany, although she'd done it silently, without Brittany's detection, because she didn't think she could face her and look Brittany in the eyes. She was too ashamed.  
Or course she hadn't been able to be there all the time, and one time when she was she'd been too out of it to have been much help, like the time she'd seen some of the wrestling team girls go after Brittany.  
She cracked her knuckles. She hated to admit it, but that was one fight she could have actually lost, had Puck and some of the other guys not been there. She had to give herself some credit though, there hadn't been a single slushy facial incident, either for herself or for Brittany yet.

It took feeling like crap on her first real comedown combined with the mind scattering effects of many, many pot laced cupcakes to break through her own walls and come back to Brittany, not that she remembered that day very well either.

All she really remembered clearly after the fight was waking up in Brittany's arms, like it had never happened, and they had gone home after the fireworks together. But it had, and unlike her own, Brittany's life had obviously kept going and now she didn't fit back in. She hadn't counted on that, she thought Brittany would always be there and she'd always be leaving little trails of Lucky Charms as she went from class to class like in Hansel and Gretel so that Santana could find her.

Now, Ladylips Hummel was always around. _Always_, she repeated in her mind. She'd also seen the Asian hanging around more times than was even remotely necessary. As for Gayberry, after she had made a beeline for Brittany, raving about desperately needing advice on what to do with a stray kitten and getting right up in Santana's grill standing between her and Brittany, Santana had made a special effort to crucify her on her Myspace page that night, thinking up more slams than ever before.

She had a plan to take down Berry. The others, Hummel and Asian, were a little harder; they were too smart. But they weren't smart enough to know to stay away from her girl.

_My girl?_ She thought softening, looking at the doe-eyed creature in front of her that was clearly struggling not to defend her honor. _Oh god, if Brittany was even willing to agree that I've been a bitch, then I must have been really bad this time,_ she thought. She still kind of wanted to pound her fist into all of those fucking Glee clubbers that thought they could just take Brittany away from her. _But it's not like she would be even talking to them if I hadn't screwed up, _she realized, her stomach flipping over in discomfort.

During all of it, she'd been so jealous. Every time Kurt had slung his arm around Brittany, she'd moved closer to Puck, wanting Brittany to hurt like she did, even though she knew there was nothing going on between the gay Von Trapp and the blonde. She'd irrationally thought that if she made Brittany hurt, then it might drive her back where she belongs, here with her. But, It had only driven them further apart, sending Brittany closer to new people and Santana further on her own trip of jealousy, too wrapped up in it to have the sense to apologize.

"I've been a bitch, I know I have. I've been a real creep," she said her voice hoarse and low, "will you come over tonight? We can maybe talk about it a little… or we can watch One Tree Hill?" She offered, clutching at her chest, every word paining her just a little bit more. Sorry seemed like the hardest word of all, but it wasn't, she knew of at least three more that were even harder.

"I don't think so," Brittany said frowning. "I promised Kurt I would help him with his ballad and now Tina says…"

"Brittany what do I have to do!?" Santana cried, dangerously close to tears. "I'm not used to this. I don't do this…"

Brittany nodded. This was about as close as Santana usually got to apologizing. She took her by the hand and led her out of the cafeteria to the janitor's closet. It hadn't changed much since their last visit, the same mops and cleaning supplies ever present. Seeing the familiarity seemed to cheer Santana up a tiny bit, but it only depressed Brittany. During their time apart, she had come here to cry over Santana, sometimes for hours on end when she couldn't stop.

"I've kind of got other stuff now," Brittany said. "I don't mean to not spend time with you, but sometimes I like spending time with other people when they'll have me. Kurt teaches me stuff too and sometimes he needs a friend. And Rachel…"

"Rachel?" Santana threw her hands in the air. "I hate that I now even have to compete with Rachel!"

_You'll always be captain of my heart San,_ the voice in Brittany's head echoed, a ghost of the past, yet only a few months shy of the present. That day still hurt and Santana's hand was still clutching at hers which made her hurt even more. She stayed silent.

"That day that I yelled at you, it changed things didn't it?" Santana said slowly, "If I hadn't yelled at you like that…"

"No it wasn't that day," Brittany interrupted, "I know you were mad San, I know you get out of control and say things you wouldn't usually. It was three days before, under the fireworks. Things changed then, and you acted like they hadn't. You're still acting like they haven't and I feel like we missed something, we let something go, we were supposed to start something together. You went over there instead, and it hurts," Brittany said, gesturing away from some far off place in the distance that evidently was the place meant for them.

Santana nodded. "I guess I'm not ready for that place yet, Britts, and I took it out on you. I'm really sorry," she whispered, wheezing as she found the words hard to squeeze out of her throat. "And, I know you're not really ready either," Santana said thinking of Brittany's oversensitivity to touch and the other issues that came with her disorder. She'd never ever want to pressure her. She hugged herself, curling her own arms tight around her body, meaning the apology with everything she had. Out of all the things she felt powerless to stop herself doing, she wished she'd controlled herself better on that day. The least she could do was to tell Brittany that.

"You never say that word," Brittany whispered back, the sound barely carrying, even in the confined space of the closet. She noticed that Santana kind of looked like she was having trouble breathing and it hoped it wasn't because of her mild peanut allergy. _There could be some peanuts travelling by air particles in here from the last time I ate lunch in here alone_, she thought worriedly. The last time Santana had actually had a peanut in her food, her throat had seized up and she almost couldn't breathe. It had been so scary, that Brittany had vowed to wear a peanut allergy costume when she went trick or treating next Halloween. She planned to tell everyone that if she didn't get enough candy, she could become contagious because that would totally scare people in paying up. Brittany thought her real life monster idea was pretty smart, because peanut allergies were real and scary, unlike all the fake monsters. Mostly though, she thought she was smart because everyone would finally get the message not to put any nut flavored candy in her pumpkin pail this year, so for the first time she could split her treats evenly with Santana.

"I mean it. I do," Santana said, a desperate edge creeping into her voice, touching her arm to bring her attention back. "I'm sorry you got hurt because of me. I'm ashamed…" she said, finding she couldn't finish the sentence and instead clutched at her chest.

_It's not a peanut allergy, it's heartburn,_ Brittany realized and wasted no time scooting forward and easing her into her arms. Santana settled against her leaning heavily on the taller girl, her forehead tucked tightly under Brittany's chin.

Brittany wondered what the magic words were this time to make her better. Drawing a blank, she just said out loud the first thought that came to her head. "You're being brave again. When you're brave it doesn't hurt so much when you touch me." She was proud that Santana had been brave enough to risk a heart attack and say sorry like Kurt had said needed to be done.

"Hmmm?" Santana asked, pulling back slightly. When she'd registered what Brittany said, the ghost of a smile appeared on her face and she snuggled back into her again.

Brittany smiled back. She'd found the right words after all. She kissed the side of Santana's forehead and received a pleased, almost bashful nuzzle back into her neck in response.

"Will you come over after school now?" Santana asked hopefully, her voice muffled.

"No," Brittany said gently, somewhat weirded out by the sudden role reversal. Usually she was the one who had to beg for Santana's time, "I still can't. But we'll do something… next week okay?" She frowned, wondering why between them Kurt, Tina and Rachel had been so insistent on booking her out for a whole week, and why it almost always involved cats. Brittany couldn't be sure, but it almost seemed like they were searching for excuses to get her to come over and somehow knew she couldn't resist a cat play date. She wanted to go be with Santana, she knew Santana needed her right now. But, she'd promised the others first so that was that. There were all these rules that were clashing and conflicting with each other now, but she knew that as soon as she said 'I promise,' whatever she said after it, had to take priority.

Santana sighed and pulled away._ There's this whole other life of hers now that I'm not part of_, she thought, uncomfortably. _I may not be ready, but I don't want anyone else to have her, not even a little piece of her. _"Please?' she asked, wondering if she really was reduced to begging. "Rachel will be busy tomorrow."

"But she said she would be. I was going to bring Lord Tubbington over to meet… "

"Trust me," Santana interrupted with a grin, "she'll be busy. I've got an email typed up pretending to be an agent looking for young talent. I'm going to send it to her tonight and ask her to meet me in some really public place. She'll be so embarrassed when the Cheerios show up instead, she won't ever leave her house again." _And that will keep her away from you_, she thought, a flash of jealousy rising again. Now where was Kurt's weak spot? Maybe she could create a fake IM name and start sending him messages from a guy whose screen name was 'Broadway buns of steel', and claim to be playing for the pretty ponies. That would get his attention, then she could set him up too, and have the guys from the football team there instead of the Cheerios. She turned the possibilities over in her mind, grinning wickedly.

Brittany's smiled had completely disappeared. She hesitated for a minute, her hands knocking together as she rocked back and forward on her feet. She recalled Kurt's words.

_You can unconditionally accept a person without loving their choices._

Suddenly, what she had to do became clear.

"I can't let you do that Santana. I'm going to tell Rachel," she said.

"What? Are you kidding me?" Santana looked at her incredulously. Brittany had usually gone along with most of Santana's schemes before, though they usually were about defacing other people's property and internet profiles. "You're not even pretending to be on my side anymore are you? You're on theirs. You even care about that stupid hobbit more than me," she said miserably, too tired to even care what she was saying.

"No, Santana," Brittany said seriously, "I am on your side. That's why I'm not letting you do this. If let you do that, I might lose you not be able to find you again. And then, what if I never get you back? I won't just stand by and help you make those kinds of choices just to make you happy!"

"I told you I'm not a nice person."

"How can you ever be, if nobody ever believes in you," Brittany said, clasping Santana's hand. Santana held on for a few beats, feeling the warmth and looking at Brittany as if she had grown another head. If she _had_ grown another head, it was perhaps more mature than she'd ever thought Brittany capable of being. She understood what she meant. She knew that Brittany was trying to protect her from herself, she just didn't think that was even possible anymore. She wrenched her hand out of Brittany's grasp, and started walking away.

"Where are you going?" Brittany called out.

"Nowhere," Santana mumbled, even though she knew Brittany couldn't hear. Definitely not home, because she suspected that Tomas was over. She wanted Brittany to follow her so bad, even though she didn't know where she was going. But they had fourth period next and Brittany didn't skip school, it was against her rules.

* * *

**Three things:**

**1. "Santana's" memory, or lack thereof really does play a background part in this. I'm quite sure she's sincere when she says she doesn't remember things. I'm also quite sure she's sincere about the heartburn. This one time I remember she came to school late because of a fight with her mom, and she basically just fell upon me, almost crying because it hurt so bad. It seemed to spread through her body but start in her chest. I guess it was psychological, but it seemed very real to her. Anyway, I never found it strange until that day because a few teachers were watching us and they kept asking us frantically if she was okay and then were even more weirded out because I was so calm like this happened all the time (it kind of did). When we were really young, there was a time I thought I could fix all 'sicknesses' with hugs, you should have see me hugging my grandmother for all I was worth right before she died. **

**2. I still have "Kurt" in my life. He's good to me and I can count on calling him anytime when I get really lost and I'll describe the landmarks until he finds me. Though he's not a perfect fit for his chosen Glee counterpart, I think he still works okay as a supporting character to this story, and since Kurt sung "I want to hold your hand" and "Blackbird" on the show I felt free to keep "Kurt's" love of the Beatles. The reason I'm not telling this story to him is because he hasn't listened to "Santana-talk" in a long time now. He's biased because he's seen too much of the bad and not enough of the good so I think he doesn't understand anymore. I can't listen to his advice about me and her because he's never been on her team, he's just been on mine. That conversation in the beginning actually took place on the phone, and it went for 10 hours!**

**3. Santana really was a cemetery junkie, and she loved this movie that I think was called 'Home Room' because the girls in it had a similar theory about not fearing the dead. **

**Also, she did used to force guys at school to give her their emails so she could send messages to girls and try to get them to meet up with her so she could publicly humiliate them. Only two girls ever actually agreed to meet the 'guy' and I did manage to stop it going ahead both times. I really had my hands full with her sometimes, but I couldn't let her become such a bully. It wasn't good for her. **

**I stole another girl's expensive pointe shoes, but one time, not many times and I was actually caught, but I _still_ managed to hurt my feet on those things. I have however, witnessed many pointe related injuries. **

**And, most importantly, I have to point out that this chapter really shows off the 'rigidness' of autism. Even though I promised other people _first_ that I'd hang out with them, I should have been able to break that when "Santana" needed me. I got so confused by my simple mind and all these conflicting rules. **

* * *

**No need to read the below essay unless you're interested in Santana's character. **

**Philosoraptor S. Pierce, Present **

**(because calling me an actual philosopher is too laughable)**

Okay if this interpretation is slightly off, it's because I wrote the description about my "Santana" and then went and backed it up with quotes and examples from the show's Santana because it seemed smart at the time I also completely realize I'm breaking the 4th wall, but at this point there actually hasn't been that much difference between Brittany S. Pierce, Present's and Authors Notes for a while now.

#

There are many sides to Santana. The only thing those sides have in common is that they're all emotional, she feels the full range of emotions very intensely. She's the one who will become so angry at a Glee club loss that she has to be physically held back from attacking the others, she's the one who will be upset and hysterically crying her eyes out for the tiniest of reasons, and then she's the one grinning like the happiest girl in the world during Glee club numbers, her entire face smiling and lighting up with joy.

She is very self centred, so much so that the very first 'nice' thing she ever says on the show ("_I like being in Glee club, it's the best part of my day okay, I wasn't gonna go and mess it up_") is still all about her, rather than about actually connecting with others. Things don't really improve after that. She remains extremely preoccupied with her own image ("_It's win-win for me, it will be great for my image and Coach Sylvester will totally promote me to head cheerleader"/"We will be the undisputed top bitches in this school"/"I wanna be famous, plain and simple_") and thinks that image must matter just as much to other people, as seen in _Hell-O_ when she tries to manipulate Finn to date her, saying it will improve his own rep as if that has to be the strongest bargaining chip possible. She has a narcissistic sense of entitlement and thinks she should always get her own way. She will order waitresses to give her free food, and boys to bring her more bling and does not accept the word 'no'.

She is not one to compliment others or go out of her way to build them up. On the whole, she is about tearing the world down, preying on other people's weaknesses and insecurities. She is a very smart girl, but she uses it to get inside people's heads and to find their vice, be it Rachel's height, nose and fashion sense, Sam's lips, Lauren's weight (endangered white rhino anyone?), Finn's weight and virginity and Kurt and Blaine's lack of masculinity and sexuality. It takes intelligence to be that snarky, but just being smart doesn't make you want to tear others down, that comes from deep insecurities and a lot of pain.

I do think of Santana as a narcissist, and they are confusing people because they are always in your face telling you how great they are, but if you look closer you realize that its all a smoke screen or a 'defense' to hide how little they actually think of themselves. When people have to be so loud about their supposed 'self esteem' you often can find that they actually have very little of it at all, or at least it's not a stable kind. Rachel Berry is another one in the show that does that, she never shuts up about how great she is, but I'm pretty sure the only thing she likes about herself is her voice ("_I am my voice_!") and how is that self-esteem? Santana never apologizes properly on the show. She'll try to defend her actions as right like in Silly Love Songs ("_I just try to be really, really honest with people when I think they suck!"_) or she will go to apologize and not be able to do it and instead unleash more insults, like in Mash off ("_I'm sorry…. that the New Directions are gonna get crushed by the Troubletones_"). I feel the reason Santana finds sorry such a hard word to say is because she can't stand to look bad even for a second, it just hit her too hard, her ego is too fragile.

And then there's Brittany, who brings out Santana's protective side ("_Leave Brittany alone!"),_ which is arguably one of her best traits because to protect Brittany, Santana's sweet side has to come out so she can call Brittany a genius and _"help her cross the street". _With Santana's sweet side, comes vulnerability, so every now and then we'd see Brittany cuddling her like in _Blame it on the alcohol_ or opening up to her like in _Prom Queen, _and it's really good that Brittany keeps her in touch with the other side of herself.

My point is, is that Santana has many sides and does have a lot of personality traits that could make her seem unlikeable. I wouldn't know, but it occurred to me after I uploaded the last chapter, that _maybe_ other writers on here might focus on her 'better' sides for creativities sake, because I can imagine how that interpretation would actually make for a lot of better stories.

So that was when I felt afraid that I might lose readers because of my choice to show Santana's unlikeable traits equally as much as her likeable ones. I feel like people are getting a bit frustrated with her already and it's not like she's not going to suddenly stop being self centered or be able to suddenly push all her other sides away to show her best one all the time.

I think Season 3 did that actually, and suddenly cut away part of Santana's personality. I don't know about you, but I don't think any real "Santana's" of this world can change that fast. All of a sudden, halfway through season 3 or thereabouts her chaotic character was so peaceful and she became all about shouting to the heavens that she had a girlfriend, and loving the world enough to be willingly putting up pictures of Berry in her locker. And, most unrealistic of all, right at the end in the Nationals episode, she was able to admit when she thought she was wrong and apologize, at a time when it was hardly necessary! _("I'm sorry, I always go to the yelling place, I have rage."_). Also, it was like she was stripped of her emotions too. Even when their lives get better, people who feel emotions strongly, don't just stop feeling, they usually just feel more free to express themselves, if anything.

I guess you could put it down to Brittany taming her, but in my experience, the "Brittany's" of the world just aren't powerful enough to do that at all, let alone in a few episodes.

Also, it looked more like 'neutralizing' than taming to me. I never wanted to 'tame' mine _like that_, I just wanted her to channel her power in more productive ways. You know, I bet that's what other writers here do, they probably channel her character into the amazing girl I always knew she _could_ be. I so want to read that myself!

But for now, I'm over here writing the reality of who she is. And I think Glee is over there writing half of what she is.

Anyway, that's just my interpretation/opinion of it.

I also figure my best chance of keeping people on Team Santana in spite of her unlikeable moments in these next few chapters is to make sure I include as much from her point of view as possible.

**Oh, and I might change this to M before the next chapter is up, just so you know. I'm not sure it's necessary, at least not until the last few chapters, but I guess I might have at least alluded to some things that could deserve an M rating and the last thing I want is to get this story deleted.**


	15. Two Thousand

**First things first, we officially have a movie trailer for this fic! I am so touched, and I am officially appointing the creator, harumad, as the Unicorn Club's multimedia division specialist and head of all creative projects :) For me, it was like harumad got right into my head, and brought all my feelings to life so beautifully in 3D, so I think everyone should go check it out! :) **

**Don't forget the youtube address then: /watch?v=LQKC8W8yRlU**

* * *

**xoxo- I really wanted to respond properly to what you said, it's kind of to everyone but mostly to you. :) I actually started writing this whole thing, because having a photographic memory for details of conversations and events means absolutely nothing unless one can see the big picture. It's like looking at a cake, and seeing flour, sugar, and all the ingredients separated without seeing that it's a cake. More to the point, I remember everything, but I have trouble interpreting facts for _meaning_, which is basically just the Miss Pillsbury way to say it's very hard for my brain with its limitations to form opinions. Writing it all down and looking at it helps, but for the tough stuff(aka anything related to love and relationships), I need to be around people who _can_ form opinions, and watch how they came to them to truly learn, understand and come to terms with some things. I have no one in my real life I can do that with, because the only people I know who _would_ listen to me tell this story to them has the same disorder, and therefore the same comprehension problems as me – telling them would get me nowhere. I also have Kurt, but I can't talk to him either because he is not fair. From the start he favored me, giving me all the chances and her none. I completely agree with you about you very much having the right to judge Santana, because unlike Kurt you actually know all the facts, and even more importantly if you ask me, you came into this liking both 'characters' which is why I feel safe here, because I was sure that this had to be the only place in the whole world people reading this would like _both_ a "Brittany" and a "Santana" and would therefore judge us fairly.**

**So that's why I'm here. I wouldn't be writing otherwise, at least not with the same urgency. It's very, very helpful to me when you point out that something said was harsh, or that certain things were unhealthy, because it doesn't mean I have to automatically take your opinion as my own, it just means I can work backwards. Think of it like 2 + 2 = ?. The numbers are the facts, and I can't calculate the meaning/answer. But if someone tells me a possible meaning, then I can work backwards like this 4 = 2 + 2, because it's much easier to check if the facts do or don't add up if you know what _could_ be the answer. That might sound a bit nuts, but when you have autism, it's hard to go about problems in normal ways, because my brain just doesn't function in normal ways. **

**Your opinions (and everyone else's too) are so very precious to me, because they've so far helped me find a lot of answers and I really wanted you to know that. :) Maybe not all answers are easy to come to terms with, but I'm pretty sure that everything I'm learning will accumulate and lead me somewhere. Perhaps by the end I'll have enough to find my way again. I know you're all just here to read a fic, and I'm totally cool with that, It's just you're actually helping me at the same time, and I'm not much good at being silently grateful. :P I just needed to say that. **

**Ps. You can pretty much assume most stuff has a real life basis and comes from somewhere. Always the big stuff, sometimes not the little stuff, or anything that sounds like a Glee related reference to ducks or something. Some dialogue is exactly what I remember, some is translated into Glee. Usually when I sit down to write, I write what really happened first, then…add stuff around it to camouflage it. I'm just lucky with being able to match a lot of stuff in the Glee timeline, using another show to do this would be pretty much impossible. Oh wait, everything Sue is completely made up! I know no such woman.**

**Taeblancaxoxo – Something I really love about you is that you do love the characters. I can't expect that from everyone, because… when it comes to entertainment, people are free to take a more superficial consumerist view and just enjoy it that way which is totally fine. But what I mean is, readers don't really _have_ to love characters in that deep all accepting way like a person who loves another person in real life does. But they can, and I think that's really very special. I don't have just average readers though, and I've probably underestimated how much everyone reading this connects and attaches to this characters and really cares for them at least to some extent, and I wanted to thank you for showing me that!**

**I've run out of time again with all that, but thanks everyone for last weeks comments. I also totally wanted to hug Puff614 for being so sweet and reassuring …and a hug right back at Miara848 too!**

**Oh, and I must give a round of applause for Ascoeur's fabulous reviewing skills! I'm almost 100 reviews because of you, and it is SO exciting. :)**

**Another playlist. The first five are "Brittany's" choice. The last ones are from "Santana's" IPOD at the time. The very last one is still her favorite song. She's left those lines of the lyrics around for me to find many, many times, so obviously they hold a lot of meaning to her.**

**This chapter also definitely needs a warning, because it could trigger things in some people. The sad songs on the playlist are a pretty good indication that _something_ is about to go down, I guess. **

* * *

**Chapter 15 – Two Thousand**

**Brittany S. Pierce, Present**

_**Santana and Brittany's infinite playlist, Disk 2. **_

Sometimes using other people's words is okay, so long as you have your own too. An infinite playlist, the soundtrack to our lives, played inside my head every time I looked at her.

**We are young – Fun** - Now I know that I'm not, all that you've got. I guess that I, I just thought, maybe we could find new ways to fall apart/ And if by the time the bar closes, and you feel like falling down, I'll carry you home.

**Jar of Hearts - Christina Perri – **And I've learned to live half alive, and now you want me one more time.

**Keep holding on - Avril Lavigne - **Just stay strong, 'Cause you know I'm here for you, I'm here for you

**Need you now – Lady Antebellum - **Picture perfect memories scattered all around the floor/ And I don't know how I can do without, I just need you now.

**Beautiful disaster – Kelly Clarkson- **And if I could hold on, through the tears and the laughter. Would it be beautiful? Or just a beautiful disaster.

**Brick – Ben Folds Five - **As weeks went by/ It showed that she was not fine.

**No Surprises – Radiohead - **A heart that's full up like a landfill, A job that slowly kills you, Bruises that won't heal.

**Ever so sweet- the early November **Ever so sweet, You make this seem, The way things go. It's not my fault. And I'll miss, I'll miss you so good, All of those nights, We lost our way back home.

**Always – Blink 182 - **I've been here before a few times, And I'm quite aware we're dying, And your hands they shake with goodbyes, And I'll take you back if you'd have me.

**Hurt – Nine Inch Nails -**What have I become? My sweetest friend. Everyone I know goes away in the end. You could have it all my empire of dirt. I will let you down I will make you hurt.

* * *

**Brittany S. Pierce, age 16. **

"Remind me again why we couldn't do this at your house, while your family is out of town?" Santana asked. Obviously they couldn't go to her own house while Tomas was making one of his less-frequent-but-equally-annoying appearances, but she couldn't understand why Brittany's house was off limits. They had a new Glee club duet project assigned to just the two of them, and so far, it was going nowhere.

The choir room was already booked by Berry, as it eternally seemed to be, which left the school library as their meeting place to plan it out. They were no closer to reaching a song choice, even though they'd been at it all day. Mr Schuester had separated them from the group during their Spanish lesson, _and_ for most of Glee Club so they could spend the time talking. Luckily, the Library was still open after hours, because they were running out of time, and Santana realized that they had to come up with something fast if they didn't want to embarrass themselves with a half finished performance in front of the whole club. Santana hadn't had many song choice ideas to contribute. The stuff she actually listened to wouldn't exactly fly with Mr Schue.

Having finally lost concentration, they were now sitting side by side at a desk, taking the opportunity to deface the school yearbook. Santana shuffled closer so their knees touched just slightly. Captain-Obvious-Brittany was less subtle, her hand came to rest on hers every so often in between marking the yearbook photos with a thick black pen. Brittany was sticking to only defaming pictures of herself, but Santana's horizon was much broader. So far, Santana had drawn a moustache on every single one of Berry's numerous club photos, and was scouring for any she might have missed before moving on to her next victim.

"We can't do it at my house, because Lord Tubbington's overheated," Brittany told her coming to her own picture and adding the word 'slut' just like Santana told her to. Santana never missed a chance to think of ways to give other people the illusion that Brittany had made out with everyone in the school so the other Cheerios would leave her alone. Although many, on the squad or otherwise, were now starting to have doubts about her.

Brittany surveyed Santana's moustaches on Rachel, and pulled out her social studies book to compare. _Forget Hussein's, they were all thicker than Borat's,_ she thought. She was so relieved that she'd stopped Santana's plan to bring down Rachel by public embarrassment, before it had even had a chance to go ahead. This was their compromise, and Santana's way to get out her jealousy on a photo rather than out on the real thing.

"Don't you mean… in heat?" Santana asked. _Could he actually be…a Lady Tubbington under all that fur?_ she wondered, the thought kind of blowing her mind.

"No…," Brittany shook her head, trying to remember what her parents had said. "I think it's overheated, like a car that won't start. He keeps making these weird noises. And he gets grumpy when he's like that until he cools down. Trust me, we're safer here."

Santana shrugged, giving up on that line of conversation for more important things. "Can you see any more pictures of Berry that I've missed, Britt? I'd hate to miss one."

"Yeah," Brittany said halfheartedly, "there's one, and there's one… and oh…. over there." She pointed three times to the same photo, at three different girls with brown hair.

Santana's forehead creased. Was she serious? Not only was it impossible for Berry to be in the same photo three times, but those girls hardly looked like her at all. They had the same hair, maybe, but the rest, no. They lacked that enormous beak. "Britts, look at them closely for me. Are you sure?"

Brittany peered closer to them with exaggerated concentration. "Yeah," she said finally, "they're all Rachel."

Santana reached over and took her hand. Seeing Berry's fat head multiple times in photos would personally drive her mad, but it was hardly one of Brittany's biggest problems. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Brittany had what the internet said was called a pervasive developmental disorder. She kind of remembered now that when she'd looked up information on Asperger's, the page had said that people like Brittany have trouble recognizing faces, the features all blurring together into something uniform and unrecognizable. She'd noticed that Brittany tended to recognize people by their hairstyle, though she had trouble with those whose hair didn't stand out in some way, like Berry's. According to Brittany, there were at least fifty Berry clones with straight brown hair in the school. _The horror_, she thought. All the long haired guys were also girls to her. _But, that was their fault for having girly hair,_ Santana decided. _Still…_ she thought. _I wonder... if she could pick me out of a crowd. _

Santana pointed to a photo of herself. "Who's that, B?"

Brittany giggled. "That's you silly," she said without hesitation.

"Not Carmen?" Santana asked, naming another girl on the squad with similar hair to her.

"Nope." Brittany said.

"How can you tell?" Santana asked curiously. "Photos can be confusing," she added to throw Brittany off the fact that she was talking about her disorder.

"I don't know," Brittany shrugged, "You just jump out at me, I think it's your eyes. I know them by heart."

Santana smiled at her and squeezed her hand. It always made her feel funny inside when Brittany did little things like that, because it made her feel like as a pair they were stronger than autism, and that would always mean something to her.

Seeing that people were starting to stare at them, she quickly moved the yearbook on top of their hands and instead focused on drawing a penis floating randomly beside Mr Schuester. _Let him puzzle on that_, she thought giggling. After a beat, she blacked it out, coloring over it heavily.

_Mr Schuester had technically been the one to finally split up the parasites from Brittany_, Santana thought, curious as to why he'd been so nice to her. He'd made a real effort to get Brittany sitting with her again, even going as far as to practically pry one Asian parasite off Brittany's leg and suggest that Santana take Brittany aside and start working on a duet, which was how Santana now had Brittany's complete undivided attention again, with no more freaking parasite interruptions.

_No, parasprites_, she mused, playing on the words, impressed with her own cleverness. Otherwise known as diminutive annoying creatures. She knew about sprite legends from Brittany's previous obsessive interest in small mythical creatures, which had came and went a few years back. Santana had her adversaries all figured out. One hobbit, one gay elf and one Japanese Yōkai_. _Or maybe Tina was Chinese._ Whatever_, she thought. She didn't see people by their ethnicity, she just saw them as someone she may or may not need to destroy. Brittany would totally believe her if she told her they were mischievous creatures out to play tricks on her and were to be avoided at all costs. But, if she knew the twists and turns of Brittany's mind, she'd also probably ask her if she knew that because she was also a Spanish sprite called a 'duende', and in no way did she want to be compared to a dwarf, she was sensitive enough about her height already.

Last week during Ballad week, the 'sprites had jumped all over Brittany the minute Santana had somehow pulled the blondes name out of the hat when they were pairing up.

Santana had honestly been excited about the ballad for like five minutes, thinking she and Brittany were finally going to hang out more again. Then she realized that ballads usually contain all that emotional crap, and no way was she going to do that in front of everyone. It was too much. Though, even if she had wanted to, Brittany hadn't had the time to practice with her. Santana sighed. Brittany had needed to practice for her dance exams that week, as well as attempt to manage her new busy social life. She'd seemed completely overwhemed by it all, and Santana hadn't seen her until she'd turned up the day before they had been supposed to perform the ballad, apologizing to her and holding out yet another of those blue roses. She had given Santana about five of them now, and maybe also a bouquet? She shrugged. She couldn't remember what she did yesterday anymore, let alone stuff from that long ago. Her memory just wasn't what it used to be.

She had to admit though, the sight of Brittany holding out those stupid blue flowers always melted her. She'd accepted Brittany's apology quickly, and had immediately wanted to ease her worries, so she had told her that there was never meant to be a ballad in the first place, the assignment was just to sing a song to a male duck. She should have predicted that this would lead to her then being dragged to the duck pond. To Santana's amusement, Brittany had belted out Disco Duck to the birds, and to Brittany's adoring delight, Santana had occasionally joined in on saying 'shake your tail feather', once even in her special duck voice.

Santana hoped to hell there were no witnesses.

The ballad had never really been an option, she just couldn't imagine herself getting up there and singing Whitney to Brittany, but weirdly enough, Mr Schuester had been the only one to sense her regret that she hadn't even tried. It had seemed like he'd really wanted to give her a second chance. Santana wanted the chance to at least do something fun with Brittany and ease the tension that had been thickly creating a barrier between them lately, she just hadn't known how. She'd never have guessed that Mr Schuester would have sought her out on Monday morning to actually make an effort and help her.

"_We didn't get to hear your ballad with Brittany last week, Santana," he said. _

_Santana glared. "Ballad week is so over, Mr Schue. The moment has passed. Deal." _

"_You know Santana," he said trying to appeal to her, looking at her knowingly, "I think Brittany is a little nervous about singing in Glee club after the experience she had last time. I think it would really help to have someone to sing with her and break the ice. I've noticed that ever since she got laughed at she hasn't even sung along with the group when she knows other people are watching. Getting laughed at by everyone has probably hit her really hard, and I'm sure she could use some confidence."_

_Santana looked at him suspiciously. He officially had her with that kind of argument. But what was his game?_

"_Okay," She said, "but no ballads. We pick the song."_

_He held his hands up as a show of defeat. _"_Fine by me. I'll be glad to see you encouraging your friend Santana, and, just so you know I might have to separate you two from the group for a while so you can get lots of practice in," he said, winking at her. _

_He wasn't blind to the issues that were surrounding those two kids. After all, they had suddenly gone from hiding the fact that they were holding hands in class (he hadn't had the heart to tell them that he could see) to sitting on opposite sides of the room at one stage, back to trying to get near other, but finding it impossible. He didn't know what to make of some of his other kids getting involved and trying to split the two up. He liked Santana. She was a fiery little thing, but there was more to her than that. He couldn't help caring about her, she was just as much a misfit in some ways as the rest of his kids. Quite frankly though, some of the rumors he'd heard about her lately made him worry about her. Brittany seemed to bring out the best in her, so he wanted to do his best to help keep the pair together as often as possible. _

"_Yeah, yeah," Santana said and turned her back to him, leaving him standing there looking amused. If she didn't leave now, she'd probably have thanked him or something and got all mushy, and she wasn't going to risk it. _

Santana had to admit she'd been surprised. Even though Tina had whined to Mr Schue about the duet, saying that she would be a better choice as Brittany's partner instead, there hadn't been nearly as much fuss from Homo Von Trapp and Hobbit this time. They were probably both obsessing over Finn right now, and as for Finn-fidelity himself, he was probably fucking at least one of them, maybe both, even though he was supposed to be going with Quinn. She tried to clear her mind of those thoughts, but failed.

"How about… I am the walrus?" Brittany asked her, randomly getting back on topic and suggesting what she thought might be the perfect song for their duet.

_Walrus_, Santana thought. Finn kind of looked like a walrus. Realizing they were still in the library together discussing their assignment, and she still had her pen poised over a picture of Mr Schuester, Santana went soft and gave him a lame but inoffensive bowtie, before turning her attention back to Brittany.

"What? I am the walrus?" _Really?_ She thought. At Brittany's nominated song choice Santana wrinkled her nose. That song was about drugs right? Was Brittany vaguely referring to her minor and completely unimportant little drug habit with that suggestion?

"Why?" she asked finally.

"Because it is a sexy song and I wanna sing it to you. That's okay right?"

Santana frowned. At least Brittany wasn't preaching, but she didn't understand what she meant by that. How was that song about sex?

Brittany frowned back mirroring her expression before answering the unspoken question."It's got a lot of stuff like what you told me. You know… all the sexting and how you smoke and like getting choked from behind in bed," she announced a little too loudly. She cringed a little in discomfort, but was too honest and literal not to announce her train of thought.

Santana cringed back. That's what she got for telling Brittany what little she remembered about how it went down in those seedy motels. She didn't mind other people overhearing though, it just added to her rep. She looked around defiantly at the Librarian and at all the eggheads studying. She was totally sure she would be hot gossip at the next Chess Club meeting by the looks of this crowd. She rolled her eyes at them.

"I thought you'd like it is all. I heard it at Kurt's house. You know, the lyrics go like... you're an expert textpert choking smokers. And it's more obvious in other parts. Boy you've been a naughty girl and let your knickers down!" Brittany sung.

Santana stared at her openmouthed. Maybe that song really kind of was about sex? Whatever. Hearing those words come out of Brittany's mouth though, was definitely sexy. Santana felt uncomfortable, she had to put a stop to this.

"That's not meant to be a sexy song. We're not singing I am the Walrus, Britt!" she snapped.

"But… I'm the elementary penguin," Brittany pouted, referring to her favorite part. It wasn't a song she liked all that much, but she thought it might make her fit into her best friend's life a little bit better, or better still it might propel her further in. She wanted to start proving to her that she was ready for more, even if she wasn't sure how to tell if she was or wasn't. Even if Santana wasn't ready for more herself, maybe she'd feel better if Brittany was right there waiting to catch her.

"Just no," Santana glared, adding devil horns and a pitchfork to her own picture in the yearbook, because deep down she was upset with herself for being mean, _yet again_, to her BrittBritt. She took a deep calming breath and looked sideways, seeing only a curtain of blonde hair where Brittany was hiding her face.

"Come on Britts, you got any other ideas?" she said lowering her voice considerably, and trying to be more gentle.

Brittany brightened and started running off seemingly endless ideas for their song choice.

"How 'bout the Pokemon theme song?"

Santana giggled. "Nope, as inspiring as that song is, try again Britts."

"Super bass?"

Santana's mind took her to a whole new place as she got full color images of Brittany in the shower. "Oh hell no."

"Kristin the stalker chick?"

"Omg. B, that's not even a proper song."

"Is too," Brittany pouted, "um… Spaghetti Bolognese?"

"I don't know that one."

"Unlike a yo yo phase, unlike a marble phase. I love it everyday, Spaghetti Bolognese!" Brittany sung.

Santana laughed. "Yeah, I see why you like that song."

Santana had noticed that Brittany had finally tired of bananas and now she liked to eat spaghetti as her main food group, obsessing each time over perfecting a meatball trick. She thought it was funny how Brittany always got stuck on one or two foods and ignored all the others.

"It's an Australian song," Brittany told her, "you know, the place where people walk on their heads?"

As usual, Santana didn't bother to correct her. They sat in a comfortable silence.

"I've got it," Brittany said suddenly, "I wanna do Build me up, Buttercup!"

She hoped Santana wouldn't say no. It was another love song, from a girl or guy to their unicorn, but much more in Brittany's own style than I Am The Walrus. Brittany knew the song was about unicorns, because nearly all unicorns were named Buttercup. It was just like when you said 'Tom, Dick or Harry' and were talking about an average guy. Buttercup was like talking about the average unicorn.

Maybe if Brittany sung this with Santana, it would count as showing everyone her heart like Mr Schue had asked her to do after she'd unsuccessfully tried to do it that one time she had sung a sad song about cats. If Santana actually went through with it, it would be like Santana showing everyone her heart too. Brittany stared at Santana anxiously with wild hope in her eyes.

Santana looked at her for a minute, then threw her head back and laughed.

Brittany laughed too, pleased that Santana was in such a good mood. She had a habit of mirroring Santana's emotions. She had the same habit for mirroring accents too, much to Tina's annoyance. She's been a mimic ever since she could remember. Back when she was a kid, she couldn't even talk to Santana's mom without copying her Spanish accent.

"You know what, B? That's what we'll do," Santana said, giggling.

It was the cheesiest song she could think of, and it sounded like a lot of fun, which made it exactly what they both needed.

* * *

"Are you nervous?" Santana asked Brittany, ruffling her hair a little as they lay sprawled out on the floor of the choir room, having finally been able to stake a claim on it to practice their duet. The song seemed a bit of a hot mess, especially since Brittany insisted there was a rap in it, claiming that was the way it was on her IPOD. Santana hadn't been prepared for that. They also hadn't done much choreography but Brittany had assured Santana that she danced best loose, when she just let go and had a good time, rather than when she planned it. That was how Brittany danced best too. In the end, Santana just figured they could wing it and if anyone dared to pick on them for it, Santana would kick their ass from here to Breadstix where she would shove one of those delicious 'sticks up their ass, if she could only bear to waste it.

Before they knew it, their time was up and everyone in Glee Club was watching them expectantly.

"Um… Okay guys. Santana's gonna play Rhymefest and I'm mostly gonna be an old dirty bastard," Brittany said, naming the guys she knew sung it.

Mr Schuester coughed and shook his head at the language and Santana whipped her head around, smirking at him.

Brittany started the song on a quiet note, looking at them all intently as she spoke, sounding as if she was writing a letter.

**B: Dear, Baby Jesus, no that's not it**

**Dear Dirt McGirt, aw yeah yeah yeah**

**Look, man it's this girl that I really like, man**

**And, I want to get her to notice me**

Brittany walked towards Santana and threw her arms out imploringly. Santana's grin left her face, and she looked away embarrassed. She looked around. Nobody seemed to care what Brittany was saying in the slightest, they were just watching with interest. Santana felt more positive about this whole thing and started nodding her head back and forward keeping in time with Brittany's rapper hand moves. Brittany gestured to the crowd and Santana turned around with her back to them, clicking her fingers to the beat that was building and raising her hands up past her head.

**B: So, I just wanted some advice on**

**What should I do to like, get her to come my way**

**Write back soon, your biggest fan, Brittany S. Pierce.**

This was Santana's cue. As the music swelled, she spun around to face them and launched into it, throwing herself into the song. Somehow as cheesy as it was, it still suited her voice and sounded pretty awesome in her opinion, as Brittany skipped around her singing an enthusiastic backup.

**S: Why do you build me up? **

**B Build me up! **

Santana and Brittany threw their hands in the air with their arms crossed at the wrists in unison. It wasn't choreographed, they were just in sync. They looked at each other and giggled.

**S: Buttercup Baby just to let me down. **

**B: Just to let me down!**

Brittany led the next step, bring back an old move of Santana's and Santana picked up on it right away, and they both pumped their fist towards the ground stamping their foot to the beat.

**S: Mess me around.**

Both girls spun around on one foot.

**S: And then worst of all…**

**B: Worst of all!**

**S: You never call baby when you say you will. **

Brittany took the opportunity to sneak around behind Santana and wave her hands out from bottom to top, making a star.

**B: When you say you will!**

Brittany threw her arms around Santana randomly from behind

**S: OOOF! But I love you still, I need you! **

Brittany burst out from where she had been hiding behind Santana.

**B: I need you!**

Brittany pointed at Santana and Santana just smiled, too into it to care.

**S: More than anyone darlin, you know that I have from the start. Build me up… **

**B: Build me up!**

They both placed their hands over their hearts and circled around each other while Santana was still singing.

**S: Buttercup, don't break my heart.**

Brittany didn't start the next part of the rap for a few seconds, she was too excited by the fact that Santana had technically told her she loved her and called her a unicorn, even if it only in song. Brittany's eyes shone, and her smile was wider than Santana had ever seen it causing Santana to melt a little. She remembered how much she loved seeing Brittany this happy. She nudged her and Brittany quickly remembered what she was supposed to be doing and skipped over to begin the next verse.

**B: Look, c'mon**

**Have you ever met a girl, come into your world**

**Cracked the safe, put your brain on sterile**

**Activate and leave stains like curls**

**Sophisticate, and make you feel so world**

**Ahhh, there it is - so liberated**

**Ridin in a sports car, so ventilated**

**Joggin in a sports bra, so titillated**

**Chick so Hood, but not refrigerated**

Brittany started krumping, putting everything she had into it.

Santana stared.

_This had to be the most sexy thing that had ever happened in this choir room,_ Santana thought, freezing and forgetting to move.

**B: Look McGirt, I don't wanna trouble ya**

**But this chick on my block, I'm in love with her**

Brittany caught Santana's hand to get her moving again and they faced each other, both shaking their shoulders like something Santana had seen once in Grease. Santana was certain now that Brittany didn't know the meaning of these lyrics, but she didn't care about that right now. This was too much fun. Santana kept up the move, putting her hands high in the air, dancing to Brittany's take on the next verse.

**B: I wanna get up in her Bush like Dubya**

**Tryin to get up in her Bush like Dubya**

**So write me back, let me know**

**How I'm 'sposed to hit it when I got no dough**

**How I'm 'sposed to spit it when I got no flow**

**Shimmy shimmy yay, shimmy ya, shimmy yo**

Santana struck a pose.

**S: Oh woo-hoo-hoooo!**

Brittany struck the same pose.

**B: Wooooo- hooo-ooooooooo! **

They repeated the hook the same as before, almost laughing too much to stand up straight.

**B: I just wanna talk to her**

**But I'm me and this girl is so popular**

**Mr. Dirty gave me his binoculars**

Santana mimed looking at Brittany through binoculars and then went right up to Berry and started looking at her through them. It was the most scared she had ever seen Rachel Berry. This felt good.

**B: From a distance I just started watchin her**

**Then I met her at Hills on the Southside**

**Bought her chicken and fries, with coleslaw side**

**She ain't say thanks enough, that's all pride**

**I don't care about her manners, I just let it slide**

**I just think about fuckin you everyday**

Mr Schuester cleared his throat and made a slicing motion on his neck to try and get Santana to stop the song since he couldn't get Brittany's attention at all. This just made Santana laugh even harder.

**B: And just sink in the back of my Chevrolet**

**All that chicken you ate and you never paid**

**Take my order, can I have a breast or leg?**

**Would you fin' to say no, oh, how's that so?**

**After I came here and spent all my dough?**

**"Look boy it's chicken, what is you broke?"**

**Then I got scared and said it's a joke**

**Gave her a hug and stole her a Coke**

Mr Schuester was instructing Rachel to stop the backup tape but evidently the Glee Club were all enjoying it too much to let that happen. They were all pumping their fists in the air as if this was some sort of riot. The whole Glee club blocked Rachel's way, and Santana and Brittany got another version of the hook in, jumping around holding on to each other as if they were dancing in a mosh pit. The Glee club (except of course for Rachel who still looked terrified) were having a similar reaction and were by now out of their seats singing along. Brittany deliberately skipped a verse because she didn't like it, and went on to the next one.

**B: Yeah**

**This is for everybody lookin for that perfect girl, man,**

**Sometimes you ain't got all the money in the world,**

**And you ain't got all the looks in the world but,**

**You can still find that buttercup!**

Brittany pressed her fist to her forehead and then moved it out to the imaginary tip of her unicorn horn, almost like a unicorn salute.

**Don't let her build you up and break you down man**

**You build it up, whatever, yo freak for me**

**Make sure she like to fuck though, heh**

**That's always important isn't it?**

At this, Mr Schuester came up and stopped the tape himself.

"That will be quite enough of that," he said sternly.

"Awwwww…," Almost the entire club whined, and then took it upon themselves to clap Santana and Brittany loudly as the two girls held hands and curtseyed, holding each other up as they were laughing themselves silly, and could hardly stand by themselves. For Santana, laughter felt so freeing, she couldn't remember the last time she had felt this good without the aid of any substances.

"Club dismissed," Mr Schuester said, knowing that he wasn't going to get anywhere with the group after this. _Why was it that either Brittany or Santana were always the ones causing some kind of riot?_

Everyone sobered and packed up to leave.

"Brittany," Mr Schuester said, "a word please."

"Yes Mr Schue," Brittany danced up to him, "did you like my song about being a unicorn in love?"

"That wasn't really a love song, Brittany, I thought you wanted to share your feelings with us?"

"I do," Brittany frowned, "I thought I just did."

"Well, I don't think you understood most of those lyrics."

Brittany thought for a moment. "I guess I didn't really understand much of what I was saying," she admitted.

"You took the easy way out Brittany and did a song for fun. I think you should try to dig deeper and really communicate how you feel inside. I know it's hard, but I know you can." He gestured for her to go. "Try again another time, okay? And maybe don't sing it with Santana, it might be something you have to do by yourself."

"Okay Mr Schue. But I still did something really important. I taught her how to dance!" she said exhilarated, referring to her own definition for 'dance' and how Santana had been once again laughing and smiling, losing herself in the music. "I may not have got her to share her feelings, but I taught her how to dance!" Ignoring his bemused expression, she ran off as fast as she could to catch up with Santana.

* * *

Brittany was on a high from their duet and planned to ride the feeling as far as it could go. But, even the next day, a few minutes with Santana in the morning before school revealed that typically, her other half had already moved on to the next thing. Brittany, who wanted to jump up and down and dance about their duet success all day, couldn't help being disappointed as Santana went back to raging about Puck and the latest news. Apparently Quinn was still taking over 'her man' and she needed to 'gets the hell away from him'. It was times like these that she felt like shaking her and asking her _why_ she wouldn't ride the good feelings with her, and had to go straight back to old habits? _Why won't you have fun, Santana? Why won't you dance with me? I just showed you how!_

Brittany still wanted to at least _try_ to celebrate how well they had done anyway, even if Santana wasn't cooperating and even seemed to have almost forgotten she was supposed to be being happy. Katie had a netball tournament interstate, and Lord Tubbington had cooled down, so the house was hers again. She'd invited Santana over and had tried to engage her with ice cream and Disney movies, but Santana's attention was divided between Brittany and her phone, returning to Brittany at times only to nod and agree with what she'd said or to quickly squeeze her hand.

Brittany never knew what she was going to get from Santana, her moods always changed faster than the weather, as did her wants and her goals. She could be sweet, or needy, or angry, or obsessed, or just so sad. Sometimes these moods had something to do with Brittany, and sometimes they didn't. Once she had something, she always had to go looking for the next thing, as if that drive and progress was the only way in which she could fool herself that she meant something. She was the complete opposite to Brittany whose moods and goals stayed steady and stuck for the longest of times.

Santana kept texting Puck as the The Lady and the Tramp played on the screen. She seemed obsessed with keeping Puck's attention away from Quinn, as if she thought that if she could only text him enough, she could halt his entire relationship with Quinn.

_She doesn't seem to be enjoying sexting at all though_, Brittany mused as she watched Santana type out some forced typical come-on's, muttering at certain points that she thought this would 'get him,' and that Quinn and her lame 90s Babysitter's Club could 'in no way compete' with a description of her own 'twins'.

It looked a lot less like fun, and more like something she compulsively had to do.

Brittany didn't know what to make of Santana's grim, determined face as she tapped things out on the keys. As she lay in her lap watching the dogs kiss on the screen, it felt like she might as well have not been there. If Santana looked through her one more time, she felt like she might even disappear. Funnily enough, it felt like Puck might as well not have been at the other end of the conversation either. It seemed so much less about Santana wanting time with Puck than it was about her wanting to make sure he didn't spend time with Quinn.

_It doesn't feel like love to me_, she thought. It seemed more like some kind of obsession_._ If you were obsessed with doing things to keep your image, didn't it count as more of an obsession with yourself, rather than an obsession with a real other person? She watched Santana's fingers move quickly across the keypad typing out 'I'm not wearing any'. It didn't' feel like Santana was specifically trying to keep up her relationship with Puck, it felt more like she was trying to fill a hole in herself, and going about it in all the wrong ways. She kept waiting for Santana to say they could dance again, but she never did. She didn't seem to know what she wanted to do, and where she wanted to be.

Eventually, Brittany pushed Santana's phone away, her expression resolute and unwavering. Santana sighed and let her, giving up.

"I want to go swimming," Brittany said, gesturing to the pool in their yard that had been put in for Katie to practice her competitive swimming strokes. Brittany knew that Santana couldn't take her phone into the pool with them, and they'd finally be alone.

Santana nodded, and Brittany ran upstairs to get her the bikini that she'd left here a while ago. It might be a little small now, but Santana hadn't grown much since, so it should still fit. Santana followed her up, accepting the bikini and standing there self-consciously. Brittany paused, wondering if they were supposed to get changed in different rooms now, or if they could still just do it here like when they were kids.

Santana solved the problem by quickly stepping into the bathroom to get changed. Brittany sighed. She could never understand why things had to change.

When Santana emerged with a towel wrapped securely around her waist, Brittany was already dressed.

They went outside. It was getting dark, a small moon appearing.

Brittany jumped into the pool quickly, finding it freezing cold. "Argh!" she exclaimed, shivering, "your turn San!"

Santana looked up. It was dark, but not dark enough yet. She had secrets from Brittany that she didn't want her to see. "No, I'll just watch you," she said, sitting down at the edge.

Brittany kicked around for a while, splashing and trying to swim with her legs together like a mermaid. She pretended she was Ariel, the daughter of a strict sea king who just wanted to have legs like everyone else and walk on the land with Santana. In a moment of rare clarity, she stopped swimming, stilling her movements to float on the surface. _Why didn't Ariel ask for a tail for Eric instead? _she mused. Brittany loved how weightless she felt underwater and all the tricks she could do. That, and living in an underwater palace seemed better than living on land.

"San!" Brittany pouted, and made her way over to her quickly, grabbing hold of Santana's ankles. "Come in with me! We can do mermaid flips together!"

Santana sighed. She hated to disappoint her. "Close your eyes Britt," she said quietly.

"Why?"

"Just close them."

Brittany did, and Santana threw off her towel, spared a quick glance downward at her legs, before sliding in the pool beside her. Brittany was right, it was cold. Santana inched closer to the blonde and pressed herself into her body heat.

"Oh, there you are," Brittany said and smiled warmly, opening her eyes and running wet fingers through Santana's hair, before pulling her in for a quick hug.

Santana didn't let go when Brittany did, so Brittany wrapped her arms back around her again. She'd hold onto her forever if she could.

"Keep your eyes closed," Santana said.

"Okay," Brittany said nodding. She was used to this by now.

Santana raised her own hand and placed it over Brittany's eyes, smoothing Brittany's hair away from her face as if to tell her she was grateful that Brittany went along with this. She kissed her nose, then paused, having had an idea.

With her other hand, she tugged Brittany down until they'd broken the surface of the water and were fully submerged underneath.

Underwater, she finally felt comfortable taking her hand away from Brittany's eyes, and they stared at each other. Brittany's hair flopped around her face adorably and her lips parted slightly, knowing what was coming.

Santana pressed her lips against Brittany's, desperately, her tongue finding its way into her mouth. Brittany hummed in response, the sound reaching Santana's ears perhaps even faster now that they were underwater.

Brittany kept hold of Santana who seemed to be having an easier time than her managing to sit on the bottom of the pool without rising to the surface. Happily, she kissed her back, though she was puzzled. All of Santana's kisses were different. The first one under the fireworks had been like magic, the second in bed when they had just made up had tasted salty and of regrets. This one now, was certainly wet, but it also felt needy and urgent. It felt fierce, yet without the same spark of the other two. It felt almost like a resigned, but unhappy goodbye, full of sadness and defeat.

Brittany ran her hands up and down Santana's side with her free hand, trying to get a sense of her place in space, her vision somewhat obscured by the water. Santana took that as an invitation to cup her breasts, then slid one hand around and down Brittany's back, coming to rest in the elastic of her bikini. She pulled her closer, lifting her up a bit, until Brittany's legs were tangled around her. Santana anchored her, grinding into her with her hips, the hand in the elastic of her bikini bottom slowly slipping lower.

Confused by the cold methodical glint in Santana's beautiful eyes, Brittany searched for Santana's other hand, needing the comfort of the familiar action. She eventually found Santana's pinky, hearing tiny moans travelling underwater as she explored the surface of Santana's body before finding it. Even when she'd found her pinky, she kept exploring her, trailing both their hands together and running them up and down her skin. Santana stilled their hands in between her legs, pushing Brittany's fingers inside her bikini bottom. Brittany swallowed a gulp of water in surprise and curious pleasure.

She didn't want to stop, but her lungs said otherwise. She wished she had practiced holding her breath so she could hold out longer. She untangled herself from Santana, who immediately realized what she was doing and helped her, catching hold of her hips and pushing her upwards. As Brittany broke through the surface, she inhaled deeply, glad for strong lungs that could give her that much time underwater.

_Santana's lungs aren't as strong as mine_, she realized suddenly, looking around for her, expecting her to have come up behind her somewhere. She hadn't.

Brittany panicked. Taking a second longer than she should have to react, she dived down and caught hold of Santana's body, pulling her upwards quickly,

Long strands of hair were clinging to Santana's face. Brittany brushed them back quickly, holding her up as Santana coughed and spluttered, her body taking in breaths that seemed too shallow to fill up her lungs.

The night breeze seemed colder now, or maybe it was Santana's body. _She's ice cold_, thought Brittany. She was breathing better now, but she wouldn't look Brittany in the eyes, and she was shaking, almost unresponsive to her touch. Brittany held her close anyway, trying to find her, figuring that somewhere in between here and when their lips had been touching underwater, she had become lost again.

Eventually, Santana seemed to come around and look more alert, but almost disappointed. Neither of them said anything. Brittany stared at her, wanting to cry, and wondering what had just happened. Surely Santana hadn't done that on purpose? Why hadn't she come up faster? Suddenly, as Santana finally wrapped her arms around her, making quiet shushing noises in her ear and telling her it was alright, Brittany realized why their kiss had been different. It hadn't been like stroking a fire to make it bigger and brighter, the fire had been empty, black and freezing, unable to burn itself at all. Santana cooed to her as her tears fell, telling her that her lips were blue now and they should get out, so she could find her a blanket, but Brittany hardly heard her. She wanted the fire back.

* * *

"I think she knows."

"Hmm?" Brittany asked Santana tiredly. She hadn't got much sleep last night, and everything always seemed more confusing to her on the kinds of days that followed.

"Your stupid hobbit friend. Did you tell her? You didn't just happen to mention that Puck knocked up Quinn to her did you?"

"He hit her?" Brittany covered her mouth in shock, her eyes wide.

"No," Santana rephrased it, "preggers. Um. You know. Bun in the oven. Served her an egg based desert. Had sex and produced unborn human child. Whatever you're calling it."

"Oh that," Brittany huffed, "no I didn't say anything. She asked me a whole bunch of questions though."

"And what did you say?" Santana asked, her voice tight.

"Vagina's," Brittany nodded pleased, "that's always the right answer, right?"

In spite of herself, Santana giggled. "Yeah, okay, you did good, B."

_So not Brittany then_, Santana thought. She didn't particularly want Berry finding out that Puck was Quinn's baby-daddy because she had to be the biggest blabbermouth in the universe, and the last thing Santana wanted was the whole school finding out that that Santana couldn't keep her guy on a leash. Pretty much the whole Glee Club knew the whole story and that was bad enough already. The news spreading and getting out to the Cheerios was so much worse. If they found out she couldn't keep Puck under control, then they'd assume that he wasn't getting enough from her, and that was unacceptable. She'd lose everything.

Ignoring Brittany's overtired ranting philosophies on Care Bears, Santana called Mercedes planning to bitch to her and find out the whole story.

Sighing when she realized Santana wasn't listening to her thoughts on what gender the deep voiced yellow bear actually was, Brittany let Santana dial in to the party line conversation on her phone for her too. She always at least tried to include her, even when Brittany didn't exactly want to be included.

When Mercedes answered, Santana didn't waste any time. "We just heard! Who told?"

Artie replied back, "We assumed it was you."

"And why would I do that?"

Kurt answered that one, "To get back at Puck, aren't you guys dating?"

_God_, Santana thought. _Was_ _there anyone not on the phone with us right now?_

What he said made Santana pissed. Kurt had made a lot of assumptions about her lately. This was the last straw.

"Sex is not dating," she said about to launch into as many insults as she could come up with on the spot.

Brittany beat her to it, and added before Santana could stop her, "If it was then Santana and I would be dating."

Santana felt her world closing in, her mind spinning out of control. In contrast, beside her Brittany seemed oblivious, even peaceful, unaware of the consequences of what she had just let slip.

Santana fumbled and kept the conversation going, but she really had no idea what she was saying. Evidently Brittany thought that they had already had sex, probably when Santana had lost control in the pool and had nearly managed to guide Brittany's fingers inside of her. She probably would have succeeded if Brittany had not needed to come up for air. The moment Brittany had broken away from her, Santana had felt so ashamed of what she'd almost done that she hadn't wanted to come back up and face her. It hadn't been thought out or planned, but Santana had just stayed at the bottom of the pool, too stricken to move. Brittany's touch had felt so good, and that was more humiliating than anything. It wasn't just 'nothing' like with Puck which is why Santana really felt as if she had something to be ashamed of.

She should have guessed that Brittany might be confused on the details and make more of it than it was. This was the same girl that assumed that to 'do pot,' meant that Santana had to go out into the woods to stir a big bubbling cauldron pot full of curious green substances, and then breathe in the rising smoke. When she actually saw one of Santana's joints, she thought it was a spring roll. She was also completely convinced that a blow job meant that someone had to blow a raspberry on a penis. _If only it were so easy_, Santana thought. _If only all of this were easier,_ she wished miserably, the implications of the moment beginning to set in.

Brittany noticed that something wasn't right. Santana had sounded so defensive on the phone and the moment that she had hung up, she leaned against the lockers and closed her eyes, tears falling slowly down her face. She seemed to slowly crack around the edges, her shoulders low in defeat. She wouldn't accept Brittany's arms which hesitantly tried to curl themselves around her. She just stood still like she was made of stone, neither leaning in to Brittany's embrace nor pushing her away. It was more like Santana had forgotten Brittany was even there. She did push Brittany away however, when some girls who had obviously overheard the conversation behind them started pointing at them and laughing.

"Freakin' dumb dykes," one of them said, loud enough to hear.

Santana lost it. She rounded on Brittany. "We. Haven't. Had. Sex. Okay?" she hissed, enunciating each symbol clearly.

"But I felt…,"

"I don't care what you felt. We haven't. Get that through your head."

_But I… I love you, I need you. I'm ready. I'm sorry_. None of them sounded right in Brittany's head so she just stared at Santana, open-mouthed. She wanted to ask exactly why Santana was so upset. Didn't she say she wasn't ready _yet_? Didn't that mean she was trying to be ready _someday_? Why couldn't she tell anyone then if it was going to happen one day anyway? The logic seemed okay to her, but Miss Pillsbury had told her a couple of times now that she could make a lot of logical assumptions without remembering that there were feelings involved.

Santana threw her hands up and tried to walk away, rushing right past the two girls and pointing at them warningly, with a dangerous glare.

Brittany followed her.

"What are you doing?" Santana asked frustrated. She wasn't crying anymore so much as she was liquefying, the solid parts of her seeming to not look right anymore, now that she was a human pool of tears.

"Walking you home, like we used to. I thought you wanted to spend more time with me," Brittany said, confused. She also didn't want to leave Santana under any circumstances when she looked so sad. Not after what happened in the pool. What if something happened?

"Not right now! I don't want you to walk me home Brittany! I need some space," Before she could hear another word, Santana turned and ran.

Brittany stopped still, though every cell of her being urged her to follow. She knew she had done something wrong. As she stared after Santana, watching her back as she walked away from her, she felt so scared and confused.

How could someone make the person they loved cry that much, and not really mean to, or know why? Brittany was tired of never knowing what she did wrong, or even knowing if what she did was right. She was tired of feeling stupid, and doing stupid things that affected other people.

Sinking down against her locker, she tried to think about it more clearly. Why was not telling everyone so important to Santana in the first place? Was her reputation worth more than Brittany? It felt like there was something barring her from being able to see things Santana's way and look at it from her perspective. After their duet, she had began to hope again, and all she had seen all week was her own excitement and drive to build their relationship. With the strength of that, Santana's fears had seemed to disappear from Brittany's eyes. There were probably several comments she'd made this week in public that were about their relationship, not just this one. She hadn't been sensitive to Santana's feelings, not because she she'd wanted to defy them, but because she'd lost sight of them and forgot to remember they existed. She'd promised herself that she would never do that.

Was this what Miss Pillsbury was talking about when she said that she had a difficulty developing empathy? Usually Brittany tried to ignore everything the red haired woman said during their sessions, but now, the comment stood out.

"_Brittany, if you ran over an invisible girl would you care?" _

"_What was her name? Was it Sue Richards?" _

"_No, it was Ricki Lake," Miss Pillsbury said, sarcastically. _

_Brittany nodded intently. _

"_Answer the question, okay? If you ran over an invisible girl, and you had no idea about it, do you think you would get upset?"_

"_No, because I wouldn't know about it," Brittany said, confused._

"_Exactly," Miss Pillsbury said, pleased. Maybe they were finally making progress. "But what if I told you that you had just hurt someone, and the girl you had no idea you had just run over, was in fact, very much there. How would you feel then?" _

"_Very, very bad," Brittany said, nodding, "I'd hate to hurt Ricki." _

"_Okay, so now you see my point. Other people's feelings to you can be just like… your invisible Ricki Lake. Sometimes you don't react properly to feelings because you don't know that they are even there. But when you do, if someone tells you, then you're more upset than anyone, aren't you?" _

"_There's nothing worse than making other people sad," Brittany agreed. _

"_Yes. So, what this is, is a difficulty... developing empathy," Miss Pillsbury concluded. "People might think you're cold and heartless sometimes when you don't react to their pain, because they don't realize that you're having trouble seeing it in the first place." _

"_So what do I do?" Brittany said, worriedly. _

"_You work twice as hard as the others, and always look out for 'invisible people' Brittany. You double check everything twice, you ask lots of questions and you think extra hard about what you're doing and how it might make someone feel."_

_What if I accidently run over Santana? Brittany thought worriedly, and vowed to never let that happen. She promised herself then and there, that if Miss Pillsbury was right and she really did have that problem, then she wasn't ever going to let it hurt anyone, but especially not Santana. She would work ten times as hard as everyone else if she had to. _

The two girls had backed off, but were still watching her from a distance. Minutes later, a third girl joined the group. Brittany recognized her as Lauren Zizes, a girl who'd held a grudge against her ever since Brittany had singlehandedly caused the outlaw of bubblegum at Mckinley High. She chewed through so much of it, that she'd kept losing it wherever she went. After teachers had started finding it in the strangest places like in the bunsen burners in the science lab, they'd outlawed it altogether.

Lauren listened intently as the scene was relayed back to her from the other girls, and then smiled deviously approaching Brittany. Brittany saw them looking at her and backed up against the lockers. She looked around wildly for an escape, but there was none. The other two girls were blocking the exits.

She tried to remember what Kurt had told her to do if she was bullied, but found in the moment she couldn't remember. "You're way bigger than me," she stuttered, trying to make them at least try to be fair.

"You calling us fat?" Lauren said menacingly.

Brittany looked them over, scruntinizingly. Yes, they were taller than her, but they also had excess body weight for their height. "Yes, you are fat," she said.

"Ooooh," the girls said, "you'll pay for that." They looked at their leader for their next move.

Lauren however, seemed almost upset. "If we're fat, we're fat and proud," she told Brittany. "We wrestling team girls like our bodies."

"I'm glad," Brittany smiled through her tears, starting to think they might just have a nice conversation instead. _That would be okay, _she thought.

"You messing with us? Cause we ain't lying, you gon' pay."

Brittany shook her head. "I know you're not lying. I know people who like big butts can't lie. Everyone knows that. There's even a song about it. And you just told me you like having big butts, so you can't lie. I can't lie either. If we were friends we could always be honest with each other," she said hopefully.

In a second, Lauren had tossed her slushie in Brittany's face. To her, it was a worthy sacrifice. For a moment, Brittany was statue still.

It was like her entire world had stopped. The frozen drink was blue and it got right in her eyes. She screamed, the sound startling the three girls who left quickly. They'd done what they wanted to do and had seen enough.

Blinded by the drink, her eyes stinging, Brittany called out for Santana, hoping she hadn't really left and would come back for her. She didn't.

Eventually, Brittany managed to get to her feet and she walked home blindly, carrying her own self loathing like a heavy weight on her back.

* * *

"Santana is that you?" Maria asked as Santana walked through the door, dragging her feet, looking forward to barricading herself in her room and hiding under her covers. She would hide away forever, or at least until she was sure that everyone who heard, had forgotten what Brittany had said.

"Santana?" Maria's voice sounded tired. Santana was surprised for one that she was actually home. She was even more surprised to see Tomas there as well, sitting at the kitchen table smirking at her.

She had been successfully avoiding him lately and it wasn't like he'd been staying over as much as before. Craig and Maria had been having some problems, and Craig been going on some long business trips, or so he said. Privately Santana thought that he'd found someone's secretary to screw, and she had been secretly anticipating the end of Tomas and Craig being around. Craig was probably looking for an 'out' this very minute.

Maria took hold of her arms roughly and sat her down on a chair. "Just tell me. Is it true?" she asked. Her voice was tight and controlled, yet dangerous, just like it had sounded during all those arguments with Santana's father so many years ago.

"Is what true?" Santana asked tiredly. Her head hurt from all the crying she had done today, and she wasn't about to play her mother's mind games. She looked over at Tomas. His triumphant smirk said it all. He had been threatening to tell Maria about their arrangement for a while now, but Santana never thought he'd actually do it. What would he get out of it?

Tomas's voice took on a whiny high pitched tone that Santana hadn't heard from him before. "I told her all about it. I told her how you pressured me and that I didn't want to say no to you, because I really wanted to keep living here. I didn't want to go back to my mom's house, and I was afraid to tell dad."

_Jesus Christ_, Santana thought. _This guy could win a fucking Emmy_. And by the looks of things her mother was lapping it all up, patting him on the shoulder. He was the prodigal son that she'd never had, and apparently all Santana wasn't.

"Tomas, Go upstairs okay?" Maria said to him gently.

"Now Santana," Maria said for the third time, "I'll ask you once more. Did you and Tomas have sex?"

"No." Santana said instantly.

Maria slapped her across the side of her face, hard. Her hand mostly collided with Santana's ear, which was now ringing from the impact. She put a hand to her face and looked at Maria in a daze.

"Santana! I know what you're like. You're just like your father. You cheat, you lie, you steal everything that's mine and bleed me dry from the inside out. I know the kind of person you are. I know you manipulated poor Tomas into intercourse, because that's exactly what you would do."

Santana's head was throbbing now and things were getting blurry. "It was just a BJ," she said hardly aware of what she was saying.

"Just a blowjob?" Maria's voice was low, "Is that what I'm hearing? You think it's nothing to force the son of the man I'm dating to further your slutty reputation? Oh, don't think I don't know. I've heard people talk about how you lure boys under the bleachers at your school. I've even heard that at some festival you were kissing some blonde, but that one I chose not to believe."

Santana froze. _Someone had seen her and Brittany?_

Maria misread her expression, "Yeah, Santana. I can't believe I raised a little slut like you. You're worse than your father. I hope you're happy. Tomas told Craig, and now he doesn't want to be with us anymore… Santana are you listening?"

Maria grabbed her around the wrists in a surprisingly strong grip and Santana yelped in pain, feeling like Maria might crush her wrists. She could already feel the bruises forming. Maria didn't let go, she just gripped her harder.

Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Tomas watching them with that same shit eating grin. It was then that she knew. This was his plan all along. At times she had thought she was the one using him, but this whole time he had been the one using her. The reason he had been so nonchalant about moving in with them, was because he knew he could end it when he needed to. She could see Tomas for who he was now. He wanted his father all to himself. She could see the hate inside him, his hate for his father yet the constant craving for him at the same time.

He hated his father for not being with his mother, just as much as Santana hated her own mother for forgetting so quickly about Papi. Santana understood. Tomas's father was all he had left, he was all he had to place his hopes and desires of family upon. Craig ignored him, and probably always ignored him unless he did things like… this. Santana understood why he had done it, but that just made her hate him all the more, somehow. Maybe it was a shared hate that she also felt at herself, because she knew that she would have done the same thing, if she'd thought of it. Tomas had used her to get back his father, but at the same time, he had taken what little she had of her mother from her, maybe for good.

Maria was shouting at her now, still grabbing her wrists in a vice-like grip, "I hope you're happy! I hope you're satisfied that you've made me lose the one good thing that's been in my life. It's just like you took Carlos from me, he only left because of you, because you are so difficult! Now, Craig too, and god knows how many other partners I've had that have seen you for who you are. You take everything from me, you take it all until I have nothing all over again!"

"What about me," Santana asked in a small voice. She didn't even know why she said it. She wasn't really in control of her voice right now. She just wanted to hear that she was important to someone, she just wanted to hear that she still had a family.

Maria slapped her again and this time, Santana's head snapped back and she automatically pushed her away from her as hard as she could. She hadn't meant to, it was done on reflex to protect herself. Maria hit the wall with a sickening crunch. She was quiet for a few seconds, then she looked Santana in the eyes. "What about you? You're dead to me Santana. I don't love you," she said in the coldest voice Santana had ever heard, "I tried, but I don't know how anyone _could_ love you."

She turned away and pushed Santana roughly in the direction of upstairs. "Go. I don't want to look at you right now."

On her way up the stairs, Santana passed Tomas, and slunk past him with her head down. He caught her wrist which was soon to be very bruised and he cocked his head as if to say to her, "Well, how about one more time before I leave?"

He still thought he owned her, even after this. Santana ran past him into the upstairs bathroom. She had to get away. She felt the walls closing in on her. These walls were too close. Tomas was too close even though she couldn't see him anymore. She slammed the door and locked it, spinning around, half expecting him to be still in the room with her. Her face was hot and the air in here felt stifling. But she was safe. She was alone, nobody was here. She sunk to the floor.

* * *

As Santana sat on the floor leaning up against the side cabinet, all she felt was dirty. She never wanted to go downstairs and face her mother ever again. She never wanted to go to school again. She never wanted to leave this bathroom, period.

Before she knew what she was doing, she was shoving pills in her mouth. She didn't care what they were, whatever was in the cabinet would do. There were a few Dexedrine pills there, but mostly it was pain killers.

_10… 20… _

Santana wasn't counting them exactly, but she thought she had a rough estimate of how many she was taking.

She felt exposed in a way that she couldn't take. She knew now that she had never been in control with Tomas. Even when it started, she hadn't wanted his hands on her and her mouth on him, yet the whole time she had pretended to herself that she had been using him to get ahead on her list. In other ways she had wanted him to need her, she had wanted him to crave her somehow. She knew now it hadn't been real. He had used her back twice as hard. He had even loaned her out to his friend like she was a worthless thing. Maybe all the guys at school were just doing the same thing.

She wasn't in control with any of them, not when they were living out their fantasies on her in a way they wouldn't do with their real girlfriends. Santana didn't want any of the videos and pictures some of them had taken to ever surface. She had never said no, not to anyone, but she hadn't exactly said yes either. Puck treated her a lot better and actually seemed to care about her, but she couldn't control him either in a different way. She couldn't keep him interested and keep him from straying from her no matter what she did.

_30…. 40… 50… _

Santana didn't like feeling so dirty. Being seen as 'a slut' had seemed like such a good idea at first, it was a way to be popular with guys who wanted her attention and it was a way to be popular with girls who wanted to know all the latest news. Most of all, it was a way to throw everyone off that fact that Santana had these strange, wrong feelings for a girl who was supposed to only be her best friend. Sex sure as hell distracted Santana from her own feelings. But, she was coming to realize, that it was also ruining her. People wanted to be around her all the time, but nobody really actually liked her, and if they found out who they really was, then they would hate her, Santana was sure of it.

_60… 70… 80… 2000._

She didn't know anymore.

They would all hate her like her mother now hated her. Just like Papi must of done too, or he never could have left. And by Monday, everyone would probably all know about her and Brittany. Those girls who overheard would spread it around, and Mercedes had a big mouth, she would probably tell at least the whole Glee club what Brittany had said.

_Brittany. _

Santana crawled over to her desk, opening the drawer and eventually pulling out a piece of note paper that had originally come from Brittany, featuring characters from The Little Mermaid. Brittany wouldn't understand why she had done this. She had to explain this to her somehow or she'd wonder _why_ forever. Her mind felt a bit foggy, but she had to try.

She addressed it to her at the top of the page, then paused, trying to find the right words to explain why she was doing this. The right words never came, instead she scrawled words that seemed to come from a place inside her that she had never known.

_A quiet demise within my eyes_

_A hollow laugh, a searing a pain_

_No fighting chance, no fucking claim._

In the haze of Santana's mind, Brittany's face was all she could see right now. She saw Brittany's gap-toothed smile the day they built a pillow fort together before Lord Tubbington took it over.

_You ask me, why? _

_Why won't you fight?_

_You sew me up, your stitches tight. _

She saw Brittany's eyes, wide with fear looking at her to stay grounded while they watched zombie movies. She thought of all the times they'd snuggled together on the couch.

_I'm losing time to feel alive, _

_A slow decay from heart to hands, _

_That you can't see, or understand. _

She saw the serious little sad frown she had made when she had told their third grade teacher who had just gotten a bulldog, that bulldogs were really hippos in poverty with super stunted growth. Brittany could always make her laugh.

_Like shattered glass, _

_and blackened skies, _

_Those voices tell me, not to try._

She saw Brittany's eyes full of emotions that she didn't even understand when they had kissed. She could get lost in those blue eyes.

_I'd give you all of me to keep, _

_But I'm afraid you'd fall too deep_

She couldn't leave Brittany. Not like this. Not after the way she brushed her off this afternoon. She couldn't let that sad look on Brittany's beautiful face be the last of her that she would ever see.

_Is this the end, shall I give in?_

_Will I let depression win?_

Santana's feet moved as if they had a mind of their own, led by the only thing that was strong enough to lead her right now, the strength of the connection which tethered her to Brittany. She slowly went down the stairs, back to the dining room.

Maria had her head in her hands and didn't look up when she came in, "I told you to stay in your room," she said unmoving, without lifting her head to look at her.

"Mom," Santana said softly, "I've done something bad, and you're not going to like it. I need help."

* * *

**Okay, first the elephant in the room. If you'd asked me the day before it happened if I thought "Santana" could ever try to kill herself, then even with all the signs I'd been given, I would have told you straight up 'No way in the world, could that ever be possible,' and yet it happened. Maybe it 'just happens' with people a lot of the time.**

**She told me some time after that, she did it because at the time she felt she couldn't face her mom after she found out about Tomas, and that she couldn't face the people at school anymore. She didn't even want to face herself. She also very clearly told me that the reason she came downstairs at the end was because she didn't want to leave me.**

**She didn't write the poem at the end. She's a wonderful writer actually, much better than me, but she can't seem to keep words on the paper without tearing it up or burning it, and she doesn't even try much anymore like she used to.**

**Anyway, we were only sixteen when I wrote that poem so don't laugh too much. :P I unearthed it from that old heart shaped diary, so it's kind of like the real "Brittany" of the past joining in on the commentary. It was actually another case of 'borrowing people's words' because after "Santana's" attempt I was trying so hard to understand her, so I went around and asked everyone 'What does depression feel like?' and I wrote what everyone said down, picking out some words and making them rhyme. It was the first time I started playing with words as a form of expression. Most of those words are actually from a family member whose husband we lost to suicide three years later.**

**I wanted to talk about this part:**

**_You ask me, why? _**

**_Why won't you fight?_**

**_You sew me up, your stitches tight. _**

**It means that you can do everything for a person with depression. You can take them to Disneyland, you can buy them a whole new wardrobe, you can even teach them how to 'dance', but until they fight back themselves and 'sew _themselves'_ up, nothing is ever going to change. It's a world of temporary fixes, like the good you do helps and keeps them just alive, but then all the happiness doesn't stay, it keeps falling away through cracks inside them into nothingness, so you have to keep starting from the beginning and teaching them how to 'dance' again and again. And through all that, you run the risk yourself of '_falling in too deep'_ through the cracks too, and succumbing to... maybe not depression, but more a kind of grief that you can't change things.**

**This was a huge thing, which definitely had an impact. It had enough impact in fact, TO change things. I know you'd think that nothing good could possibly come out of a suicide attempt, but something did. I have a massive reactions chapter to write now.**

**Also, that was the worst fight Santana ever had with her mom. None of the others were ever that kind of bad. I don't think she ever got over it. What I wrote was very close to what actually happened. She says the worst part in her mind was when she pushed her mom against the wall, she still can't forgive herself for that. **

**Three things:**

**1. The Rachel Berry face recognition issue, as shown on the show in S3's Promasaurus episode while Brittany chats to the prom committee and calls a random girl Rachel, is called 'Prosopagnosia' by the experts and I don't know why people with autism have some extent of it, I just know I often hope to hell that people keep their hair the same so I have some chance of identifying them.**

**2. "Santana" had a secret love of really cheesy songs, the more dorky, the better. We had so much fun getting together and just singing stuff sometimes, though never actually in front of crowd. Here's Brittany's rap version of Build me up: /watch?v=CZ_zwDdxI_o**

**3. That actual bullying incident with "Zizes" didn't involve a slushie, it involved scissors to my hair to make me look like a boy, though they didn't get all that far with all the screaming. I figured the frozen drink was more 'Glee'… and also less painful to write about. I guess it shows though, _why_ people with autism can be targets. We say stuff that gets already antagonistic people really riled up without knowing it, until they snap.**

**Also, that thing I wrote about empathy is also really true. When you get diagnosed, the first thing the professionals look for is how 'easy' it is for you to develop empathy. It's not actually a question of whether you can or can't have it. I've heard if you actually _can't_ develop empathy _at all_ that's called being a 'sociopath' and that's not autism. I wondered sometimes if Tomas was part developing sociopath. Anyway, speaking of, we have now finally seen the last of Tomas. Good riddance to him. **

**I actually think I wrote about 2000 words each day of the week for this update (just like the title). I feel that this is kind of nuts, even for me. :P **

**Edit: A quick note on "Maria Lopez" since I have done almost no characterization on her whatsoever because there is always too much to get through, lol. She differs from Gloria Estefan's character 100%. Lets just say Santana got all her brains from her dad. She was a dense, ditzy woman who was really only interested in her string of boyfriends. Santana hated every boyfriend she's ever had (to date) and did try to be as bratty as possible around them, particularly when she was little. She'd threaten to kill them their sleep and that. Maria was all about having Santana's problems fall on deaf ears. I went up to Maria this one time I was worried and said 'Santana is really upset, she needs you' and I got a fake concerned response and I find out later that she'd yelled at Santana for being a matryr and making Maria look bad or something like that. When it came with Tomas, Maria most likely sided with him because she's used to prioritizing the boyfriend, and was very likely trying to get Craig back by sucking up to Tomas. That, and she just pretty much never believed anything Santana said. She was not a nice lady. **

**Also the moment in the pool where I said Santana had a 'secret' ... I never actually said what the secret was, so nobody has missed anything. :) It's another big thing that I don't feel comfortable leaving out, but find hard to talk about, so I will try to have the balls to follow it up. **


	16. On My Mind

**xoxo - I laughed when I heard I made you like Will. I don't know how I do it, because I don't particularly like him in the show either, he's kind of creeped me out ever since I saw him singing this song to Sue to try and turn her on, and his butt was just… jiggling. In this story, his butt will always remain stationary. Ah Artie, I feel like with Artie, it would be really silly to give him a huge focus. I had the Artie experience, but I guess I'll have to not do canon with that, because… I'm not going to pretend we had much chemistry. I'm not sure any "Brittany's" have ever had chemistry with the "Artie" types. He was a perfect gentleman, our relationship was very safe and I learned much about computers from him so he is partly to blame for this story, and he'll probably get his half(?) chapter… but with Santana, it was like every inch of my body came alive and I couldn't wait to live. With Artie, there were no sparks like that. With canon in general, I don't know how close I'll be able to stay to it after the next chapter, but I do know I'm going to get to 'Sexy' and then all canon will be no more. Also, thank you in advance if you get through this 20k. I even cut stuff. So much happened in this one week. AND, thank you for suggesting Mercedes a review or so back, I think this story needed her so nobody dies from all the angst. :)**

**harumad -I really just love how you treat me like a friend, I always feel like you talk to me about my chapters as friend-to-friend rather than as reader-to-writer which is a rare thing to have. You encourage me, and tell me to be honest and write the truth without worrying about what people would say, and I think it's only a friend who would say that kind of thing. :) Besides, this story is so personal that you can't help but to 'know' me, and I feel like the video was so personal too, that I saw into you. I've had all the professionals tell me that I will never have the ability to understand whether someone _is_ or _isn't_ my friend because apparently that kind of social skill is way too complex for me, and I will always get it wrong. But, I swear I'm right this time. Speaking of the video, I still haven't managed to watch it without crying yet. I'm getting there. :P It is just so beautiful though, and I guess I'm just really emotional from this chapter. Anyway, you take care.**

**Puff614 - Some great comments from you! I too, wish that Brittany could rap every week, because I have it on good authority that she already does in real life. She is pretty good at Ice Ice Baby/Under Pressure, and Billionaire. :P I really love what a great friend you are. I can always tell by your comments how selfless and compassionate you would be to a friend who needed you. Maybe it's completely insane, but I've had this unicorn toy since I was born that I took everywhere with me. I used to pretend she was real and play in the sandbox with her when nobody else would play with me, and I'd always get a warm feeling looking at her painted smile, because I truly believed that if she really were real, she could never not be a good friend to me, even if she tried. Every time I've tried to picture you, I've always imagined you look like my little unicorn, made real and human, because to me, I also think you represent the same thing; you could never not be a good friend to anyone, even if you tried. I just signed the word 'friend' to you just now (you'll find out what I mean by the end of this chapter) :) Ps. I had to leave Santana not knowing about the slushie, because I wasn't creative enough to figure out how she might have found out. In real life I got a few inches cut off my hair instead of getting a slushie. I said nothing, but the minute Santana saw me, she knew, because I hate haircuts as they involve bright lights and strangers touching me, so I so rarely got them done, and she nearly always came with me. She was more upset than I was in the end. I think she was partly angry that anyone thought they had the power to 'deface' what was hers, and for the rest just sad that every time she looked at me she could see other people's hate on her 'girl that barely hated anyone' as she said many times. That moment actually impacted the final scene in this chapter a lot, though I didn't mention it.**

**Prattle01 – So glad to see you back! I was about to send a stampede of unicorns off as a search party to find you, and save you from the darkness of life without the net. :P Haha! I'm glad I got you into Brittany's music choices. I do dance, and my class did "Build me up Buttercup" minus the rap when I was eight, and I stole a few moves from that routine, lol. Mr Schue keeps suggesting she should sing something sensible though, at some point she might actually take his advice. Hope you enjoy this update!**

**taeblancaxoxo - What you said about Santana dealing with all that pain, and how incredible it was that her first thought still managed to be about how Brittany would cope with her attempt, really resonated with me, because I felt exactly the same way. I felt like I really shouldn't expect anything from her, because if someone is at the point where they feel they could take their own life, you really can't expect that person to babysit you, because they don't even take care of themselves. If I had worked up even a tiny amount of resentment towards her for hurting me in the years prior to her suicide attempt, it seemed to fall away then, and it made all the times she had been there for me when she was obviously feeling like shit herself, mean so much more. So I really, really, liked that comment you made. Thanks so much for what you said about me sharing this, I really appreciate it, because I swear the hardest thing I will ever do this week is click 'upload chapter' …but if you're reading this, I must have got there in the end!**

**Lady Greyseal - A new Unicorn Club member! I would totally appoint you to sum up our club meetings because that summary of nine chapters was really awesome, really getting to the heart of it. I could never have done it that well. I loved your comment and being in tears and in laughter, because I actually wanted to list this story under both the angst and humor categories, but didn't, because I figured people would think I'd gone mad, even though I swear life is like that, always such a mixed bag of conflicting emotions. I could probably have picked about ten categories, actually. Anyway, thank you very much for writing to me, to think this story has the power to get you to even reevaluate your life blows my mind, and it's definitely why I keep writing it. :)**

**Ascoeur -You don't need to be sorry! I appreciate all reviews short or long, because sometimes, even giving up a couple of minutes to write a shorter view is a huge percentage of a really busy person's free time and energy, especially if they're at college! So your reviews are totally perfect as they are, and I always love your enthusiasm. :)**

**And ram0008, gracielovesyou and Miara848, thank you for going through this with me. I know that sounds strange, but I cried the whole time writing the last chapter (and also this one) and it means a lot to me that I had people who cried with me so I wasn't alone in that.**

**People who just felt it all with me, are awesome too, thank you SuperCarmen!**

**And sadpanda15, I love your name so bad :) And after8icecream, a psychologist actually told me that explanation for empathy not so long ago :)**

**I really wanted to take the time to write back properly to everyone this week, and I hope I didn't miss anybody. This chapter is just _so_ long that I'm not sure it I want to call the length outstanding or horrifying. Perhaps horrifying. Everything in it relates and has a point at the end, though, so it couldn't be split into two chapters.**

**I also wanted to mention there are over 100 unicorns following this story, and now that is outstanding! **

**In other news I've been trying to make a cover for this fic all week because FFN was like 'we recommend you use a cover' but what I made looked like a three year old did it in paint so I tried, but may have to give up on that venture, because I am truly hopeless. :P **

**Oh, and I'm about to have a sly dig at the writers of Glee again in Brittany, Present. I enjoy any opportunity to slap them with a symbolic chicken cutlet. :P **

* * *

**Chapter 16 – On My Mind**

**Brittany S. Pierce, Present**

If I were on TV, I would hate to be one of those stuck, stagnant characters that never seem to change from season to season. You know, kind of like Joey from Full House. That guy planned to temporarily move in with his best friend and help him with his daughters. But, in the eight years that show was on the air, he never moved out or had a proper long term relationship with anyone over the age of ten, or seemed to grow up in any way.

Santana and I both think that the character 'Willow' in Buffy the Vampire Slayer is totally the opposite of that. She grew and evolved from season to season, and we loved that, because that's what real people do.

You know what would be my nightmare? Selling the rights of my life story to a TV show, and having a whole team of screenwriter people devoted to writing my lines, but never seeing my onscreen character ever grow and change for the better or learn from her mistakes. Maybe she wouldn't even get enough screen time to ever have a chance to do that. It would suck to be treated as a big joke or as just a plot device, instead of as a realistic character.

Every now and then, real people get stuck too, going around in circles and never reaching the next step. I've heard it called a rut. Santana and I were in a rut. It was this routine over and over; we'd make a little progress together, she'd get scared, we'd fight, she'd get defensive, I'd spiral into a period of self loathing and blame myself for doing the 'stupid' thing that had made us fight in the first place, then we'd make up and the whole cycle would begin again. Two steps forward, two steps back, two steps forward, two steps back.  
Something had to change. Change can be good.

I was in a rut all of my own. I let Santana do everything for me, depending on her for even the most basic things. I guess you could say I needed her to even cross the street. I couldn't make choices without her, even ones that only affected my life and not hers, and I had not even begun to accept my own circumstances. You can't take control of autism and make the best of it, if you refuse to believe you have it at all.

I was definitely verging on Joey from Full house.

Maybe it was a beautiful, dysfunctional world I lived in, with _Hakuna Matata_ and no sense of reality and responsibilities, but it's those kinds of people who shouldn't be in a real relationship with other people.

When Santana attempted suicide, I looked at her like she had to be in a rut too. I figured that now she had gone that far, that final step would be included at the conclusion of every difficult season of her life. I feared so desperately that one day she would succeed, series finale. I guess my brain was too simple to realize that just because she had done it once, that didn't necessarily mean she planned to do it again. Rules and routines aren't a part of her world like they are mine.

As flawed as my logic was, and as slow as I was on the uptake, nothing can change the fact that those long days where losing her was always _on my mind_, were still very real to me.

It was that pain that eventually brought me to understand something I never had before:

_There can be no growth without change. There can be no change without some kind of fear or loss. There can never be fear or loss without pain. _

So, I guess pain makes us grow.

Maybe the odds were so against us, that we both needed to get to our lowest points, to truly push past that and move forward. There is no lower point than making an attempt on your life, and for me, there was no lower point than being faced with the fear of losing Santana, my whole world.

I think if my character on this mysterious fictional show went through a lot of pain in one season, then there is no way she would be the same after it. She'd have to either lay down and give up, or go forward. Imagine if they still had my character unable to cross the street by herself, unsure of how to lock doors, and still failing every single subject by the third season? What if they wrote that after three years of sitting in all her classes and trying really hard, she still could only get a 0.0 GPA? What if she were still stuck using other people's words to tell her girlfriend how she felt, or worse, what if she didn't speak at all? Oh, this is all hypothetical, but how silly would that be?

Real people grow. Real people learn.

And sure, people with autism get stuck in ruts more than anyone, and change is always so hard won, but it happens.

Santana and I are different. She tends to struggle her way through childhood to adulthood stages like a caterpillar to chrysalis to butterfly. After completing each stage she moves on, unable to return to how she was before. I think that's normal.

When I finally made it out of my rut, I realized that I was not a butterfly, but a shapeshifter. I go backwards and forwards to the beginning, middle and end of my road at any given moment. I don't exactly understand why, but I think it's because like I told you, I never forget anything, so every experience stays inside me, able to be relived at any time and retold in its entirety. Santana says I can seem four one moment, and in my early twenties the next, but she said that when it counted and when she needed me, I usually got to the right place.

It took me a long time to realize that trying to kill access to my beautiful dysfunctional childhood words of old was impossible, and in time I ceased beating myself up about it. The important thing was, that I had achieved enough growth that I _could_ join Santana in the real world when it counted, and we could fly as butterflies together in the times when she needed to not fly alone.

* * *

**Brittany S. Pierce, age 17. **

"Brittany! Brittany!" Santana cried out, as the nurses rushed around her, trying to decide the best course of action in treating her.

"She keeps saying that," Maria complained to them, sitting in a chair roughly a foot away from Santana, "I think it's one of her friends or something."

"Brittany," Santana moaned, "get Brittany."

One nurse who was checking Santana's vitals and hooking her up to an IV, looked her over. She was conscious, so she could give her the charcoal, rather than use more invasive procedures. That was a good thing. She signaled the staff to get everything ready and turned back to the dark haired girl.  
_She was probably barely sixteen_, she thought sadly. She swore that the patients she treated for attempted suicide were getting younger every year.  
"Your name is Santana, right?" she asked.

"Yes," Santana looked at them through her tears.

"My name is Claire," the nurse said kindly, "can you tell me how many pills you took?"

"One hundred… two thousand," Santana mumbled, "I really don't know."

Claire gathered the empty bottles and packets that Maria had collected off the bathroom floor before they left, and showed them to her, "Is this all of them?"

"Yes," Santana sniffled, "where's Brittany?"

"Santana have you thrown up?" Claire asked.

"Yes she has," Maria said, "we had to pull over on the way here."

She couldn't help but grimace at the memory. She knew all the nurses were looking at her like she was a terrible mother, but they didn't know what she had to deal with on a day-to-day basis. Of course Maria _cared_ that her daughter was lying on a hospital bed, and that she'd been in tears the whole drive here, right up until she'd yelled for Maria to pull over because she was going to be sick. Maria knew she cared, but she felt overwhelmed, her feelings distant, and displaced. She'd been in over her head for a long time, and had given up on trying to figure out what to do with her daughter years ago. Santana had been only six when she started getting in fights at school, and it was all too much. What could be done with a daughter like that?

"Brittany!" Santana's voice had risen to a thin wail.

One of the other nurses softened, her heart breaking for her. "Can we reach her friend?" she asked Maria.

"I don't know. I don't really know her friends."

"Santana," Claire said passing her a phone, "do you want to quickly call your friend and get her to come and sit with you before we start?"

Santana shook her head. She had already tried many times on the way to the hospital. She knew Brittany had lost her cell phone, so she could only call her on her home line. Mrs Pierce had answered the first three times, and had angrily reminded Santana that she wasn't allowed near her daughter, then she had taken the phone off the hook. The last time she had called, Santana had heard Brittany's voice in the background asking who it was. Mrs Pierce had told her it was a telemarketer 'selling porn and other obscenities.' _So that's how Mrs Pierce sees me_, Santana thought. She didn't care about that right now. She hated hospitals and she just wanted to see Brittany.

"I don't know how," Santana said in a small voice, "I don't know how to reach her."

Maria sighed, and then came closer until she was sitting directly beside her daughter. Santana turned her head to face her.

"I can't deal with this," Maria said, not wanting to be here, "you didn't have to go so far and do… this."  
She remembered that the last time she had been to the hospital with Santana, was the day she had given birth to her. Santana had been premature, which she guessed was technically her fault.

"_Get this thing out of me!" a heavily pregnant Maria screamed, trying to wave the nurses over. _

"_Mrs Lopez, you're not due for at least a week, maybe longer. Please be patient. Come and sit down, you must not over exert yourself. We'll call your husband," a nurse said trying to calm her down. _

"_Fuck waiting, I want it out now!" Maria demanded. _

_Marco, she thought, half vengeful, half wistful. If she waited a week, she was sure this kid inside her would be born the very same day her older brother had taken his own life, almost a year prior. She had never understood Marco, he had been a strange, moody presence in her family home growing up, content to pass the hours in his room alone, always on the wrong side of the law when he actually decided to join the world. He'd never moved out of their Mami's house.  
It had been on a typical, boring day that Maria had visited her mother and brother. Marco had poured himself some cereal, and had eaten it slowly while they sat together in silence, occasionally making comments about current affairs on the news. Within the hour, he had gone and jumped off a bridge in the next town. Maria did not want her baby born on the same day that he had died. It seemed a bad omen, as if part of Marco's spirit could transfer to her baby somehow, and he or she would grow up as reckless and difficult as he had. "I can't have this kid born on the same day my brother died, I just can't," she said. _

"_The procedure is not recommended for the child," the nurse said, "he or she isn't quite ready yet. Think of your baby's safety." _

"_I don't care," Maria muttered, not caring if the nurse heard her or not, "I just don't care. What about what I want? Did Marco ever think about what it would do to us when he jumped?"  
She wouldn't give birth to a tiny version of him, she didn't care if she had to stand here all night, she would have this kid out of her by tomorrow morning, one way or another. _

"You know Santana, you've always reminded me of someone, but I could never figure out who," Maria said to her as the nurses readied Santana's medication.

Santana looked at her fearfully, scared by what her mother might say, and even more terrified by what the nurses might be intending that she do next. She wished she had someone to hold her hand.

"But now, as I sit here and look at you, I guess it's my brother," Maria concluded, sighing.

Santana knew about Uncle Marco. She had always felt so connected to him, even though she knew he had died before she was born. She didn't know where he was buried, but sometimes, she went to just any cemetery to talk to him. There were several cemeteries in Lima with thousands of graves, and she could spend her life going through them all and still never find him. She wasn't sure why she liked talking to a dead guy so much, but she'd always felt like he knew what she was going through, and that made her feel calmer. He was at peace now and sometimes she imagined that he was there, letting that feeling wash over her too. When she'd told Brittany that, Brittany had insisted that the feeling was called 'dancing.'

When she was small, she used to sometimes find Abuela crying over a old picture of her Uncle late at night. He looked to be about three years old in the photo, with chubby cheeks.

"_Ab-way-a?" four year old Santana asked, coming into her Abuela's room, pronouncing her name wrong like she always did._

"_It's the middle of the night, go back to bed," Alma said, giving her a little push, and quickly hiding the photo she'd had in her hands. _

"_But I can't sleep," Santana whined. Her ear hurt and she felt hot. She didn't want to go back to that dark room with the strange posters on the wall by herself. She could hear the spiders moving around in her closet, and the music box she kept winding up to fill the silence only lasted so long. _

"_You should get some sleep, because Mami is coming to pick you up tomorrow," Alma told her. She hadn't seen her daughter or son-in-law in almost an entire year, and neither had Santana. _

"_Mami?" Santana said, mixed emotions playing on her face._

_Alma nodded._

_"And, Papi too?" Santana asked, her face suddenly shining with excitement. _

_Alma shrugged. "I don't know." _

_She had no idea if Santana's parents were currently together and trying to work things out, or if he'd left her daughter again. Good-for-nothing son-in-law she thought, fuming. She hoped they got divorced; her daughter could do so much better. Maria had rung her yesterday and had told her that she was coming to take Santana back for now, but she hadn't mentioned if Carlos was there or not. _

_Santana began crying, one hand over her ear which was still throbbing, and the other trying to wipe her tears away. Abuela hated tears.  
_"_Nobody wants me," she said, pulling at the ends of her long hair. She wished that she could be perfect, because then her Mami, Papi and Abuela would all live together happily, instead of them having to run away from her all the time. They had all gone fishing the day before Santana had ended up at Abuela's place full time. Santana had been running around everyone's legs and had tripped Papi up in her excitement, and he had hurt himself, landing on a rock. She had screamed and cried then, and had also fussed when they couldn't keep the fish they had caught. She knew that was why they had left her. Abuela was the only one who could stand to keep her, but she knew that she was never the person Abuela really wanted to see.  
_"_You only love the little boy," Santana said jealously, pulling the old grainy photo out from under Alma's pillow. He was the only kid Abuela wanted living in that funny smelling room with all the strange naked people magazines under the bed where Santana now slept. She wondered who he was, she had never seen him before. _

"_Don't touch that! ¡no toques! I mean it!" Alma yelled, swatting Santana's hand away from the old picture. It was the only one she had of Marco that wasn't of him scowling. He had never taken nice pictures as an adult. She didn't want Santana to ruin it, she was like a little wave of destruction sometimes. _

_She would be glad to get a break from her. The constant whining, the running in her house, the 'where's mami and papi,' and all the dirt and messiness had long since got on her nerves. Her house wasn't baby proof. Today, Santana had broken some of her most prized possessions, including a rare early edition copy of The Wizard of Oz. She had threatened to sell Santana to make up for some of the cost. _

_Santana had just wanted to look at the pictures because they were different to the ones in her cartoon storybook. She had worked hard to get it out of the cabinet carefully, but the pages were old, frail and brittle. Before she had known it, she had torn one, and Abuela was shouting at her that they were going to the market tomorrow and she was going to leave Santana there with the man with the fattest wallet. _

_Santana began crying in earnest now, and started backing out the room, tripping over her feet. To her surprise, her Abuela's angry resolve fell away at the sight, and she stopped her, blocking her way and kneeling down in front of her, grabbing a Kleenex and beginning to clean her face almost tenderly. The child's eyes widened, unused to the affectionate touch, and instantly craving more of it. _

_What is the English way of saying their child was not clean? Could you use the word garbage or dirty to describe her? Alma wondered, and what was the difference? Alma went with the former. "Mija, my little garbage monster. You know I like you," she said gruffly, picking her up.  
__Ever since she'd lost Marco, Alma had found it hard to feel anything for anyone, and she wasn't sure she could ever love again. But now there was Santana, and she would still try to take care of her. All Alma had left to give, just had to be enough. Someone had to at least try and put Santana first, because Maria never had done so herself. Her daughter had even dragged this kid out of her body before she was good and ready, Alma thought, adjusting Santana on her lap. Santana had ended up being born about ten days premature and had come out almost blue, her breathing rated as critical. She hadn't been ready to see her mother then, and she wasn't ready to see her mother now, Alma thought. _

_She would have expected Santana to be more excited about seeing her mother after all this time, but the little girl didn't seem happy at all. She had her head buried into her shoulder and was clinging to her so tightly that Alma didn't think she could pry her off if she tried. Santana's nose was running and the wetness, mixed with her tears, was getting all over her best blouse. Alma had never even thought to change clothes for bed, not after she'd begin to feel the pull of her own reminiscing some hours before. What would be the point of dressing for bed, if she couldn't sleep?  
I will have to change now, she thought, trying not to mind._

"_Don't cry now, my little garbage face," she said rubbing the child's back.  
This child was almost permanently dirty and messy, she complained to herself. She could never keep her face clean, and it only got worse when she was crying. Where are my welfare checks, she wondered, untangling Santana's hair. _

_Santana kept crying, pressing her ear to Abuela's cheek, moaning in discomfort. She didn't want to go back with just Mami, what if she had one of those strange men over again to sleep in Papi's side of the bed? What if she kept dragging Santana to all those parties again, with the big ladies that smelled like flowers, their hair piled high on top of their heads. She liked it much better when Papi was there, because that meant that she could play quietly with him in the corner. He wasn't into crowds. When he wasn't there, she had to follow Mami around until the sun was gone, and she was so sleepy she couldn't walk anymore. The big ladies pinched her cheeks, and only offered her fancy food for dinner that she couldn't eat. At least Abuela always tried to make sure she was well fed (even if she kind of went overboard) and made sure she got to sleep by at least eight o'clock. She didn't want to go back with Mami. The last time she had been taken to one of those parties, she'd managed to fall asleep in the punch bowl, ruining her new dress, and Mami had yelled at her the whole way home. Why couldn't she stay here? Where was Papi? Why wasn't anything fair? _

_Seeing that Santana wasn't going to settle down, Alma began singing to her. She knew Santana loved that song from The Wizard of Oz, even if she hadn't made it all the way through the movie yet, because she was afraid of the witch. "Detras del arcoiris, rumbo al sol, mas alla de las nubes, hay mucho mas que amor," she sung, seeing the child finally calm down, leaning her head against her chest, listening._

"_There's no place like home, Mija," Alma said quoting the movie, "you'll be happy with Mami." _

_Santana whimpered. She didn't think so. She'd lived in so many places that she wasn't sure where her home even was. She wasn't sure who was really supposed to take care of her. If only she was perfect, then maybe somebody would finally bring her home. _

If Alma's heart had died with Marco, then so had Maria's. She'd been too involved with Marco, too invested in someone without the will to keep himself alive. When she saw parts of him in others, she couldn't face that. She'd been through Marco once, she couldn't do it again. She'd prefer to think those parts didn't exist. She'd always thought that maybe if she ignored Santana enough, it would all go away.  
"Marco," Maria said, "you have his eyes and his stubborn streak, and something else I can't put my finger on."

She shook her head, trying to clear her mind. This was all in her face, why was Santana making her go through this again?

As the nurses handed her a plastic basin, Santana talked fast, trying to keep her thoughts coherent. "I'm sorry I can't be perfect, mom. I wish all the time my best was good enough. But, I didn't do what Tomas said. Please don't let him come back to our house. Please believe me just this one time."

"Let's not talk about that now, Santana," Maria said, gingerly patting her hand.

Santana nodded. That response was the best she could hope for anyway. Her mother never could admit out loud when she was wrong.

"I'll book you in to see someone, or something. This isn't something I can deal with," Maria repeated, her mantra for the night.

Santana closed her eyes, feeling her mother's fingertips brush her knuckles. If she pretended hard enough, she could pretend it was Brittany holding her hand. She would do whatever the nurses said to get the poison out of her system, because if she died, Brittany's heart might die with her, just as her mom and Abuela's had with Uncle Marco.

"I'm sorry I can't be perfect," she said again, this time to Brittany, who was miles away. Santana hoped that she was sleeping soundly in her bed, completely unaware, and having the most pleasant of dreams.

* * *

The next week began with Brittany's birthday. She was super happy because her mom had said she could have the day off school, and she'd given Lord T and Senor festive party hats to get everyone in a celebratory kind of mood. She'd been searching all day now and had finally found her lost phone in the fridge. It made sense now, that a tuna sandwich had been found on her bedside table in her phone's place. She wondered if she'd been sleepwalking again or if her cats had something to do with it. Since she had found it, she'd been waiting around for Santana to call her, hoping so hard they could make up.

She'd been given a couple of birthday presents so far. There were a couple of books on learning social skills from her mom. She didn't want to be ungrateful so she tried not to mind, but she had been hoping for the one she'd seen in the bookstore with photos of different cloud shapes, or a new animal book. Katie had bought her tickets to the ice skating rink which was so awesome, so that made up for it. Kurt had given her his present early, a unicorn onesie for adults, which was even more awesome. But, if she was honest, she just wanted the person she loved most to call her. That would be the best present of all.

Flicking through her social skills books, and finding them confusing, she leapt on the phone the minute it started ringing.

"Hi Brittany," Tina said cheerfully.

"Oh!" Brittany said, more than a little disappointed, but trying not to let on. She remembered that she had to be entertaining over the phone or people would stop listening, so she tried to think of something she could say.  
"Hello Tina. Hey, I meant to tell you the other day about this really funny story."

"Never mind that," Tina said abruptly, "did you hear about Santana?"

Brittany went silent. Their secret was out. But who told? It could have been Mercedes, but Brittany really doubted it. Mercedes was too cool for that, she might be the only one in the whole Glee club who was above spreading rumors. Santana was so paranoid that she couldn't see that. Brittany guessed that it was Lauren and those other wrestling team girls who had told everyone what had happened on the party line.

Santana was not going to like this at all. No wonder she wasn't calling her for her birthday.

"Um, Brittany? I guess you don't know. My mom's a nurse, right? So I know that Santana was treated for an OD over the weekend. She is such a drama queen. I mean, can you believe that she'd even do that?"

Brittany searched her brain for what Tina might mean. The words 'nurse' and 'treated' worried her because that usually meant time in a…

"Santana was in hospital?" she asked carefully. So this wasn't about what happened at school? Lauren and her friends hadn't told after all?

"Yeah. And she was mopey as anything. Totally emo. I mean, how is it that I'm the one called an attention seeker all the time, when all I do is express myself a little through my style of dress, and she just gets away with stunts like that. Hang on I'll add Rachel to this conversation, she can't believe it either," Tina said.  
She thought all this was pretty exciting, not much happened in their small town, and maybe this would finally win Brittany over to their side. If that happened, she couldn't wait to see Santana squirm. It would take her massive ego down a few notches to no longer have Brittany trailing after her for good.

"A stunt?" Brittany repeated, her mind going fuzzy. _I missed motorcross practice last Friday, maybe she filled in for me_, she thought worried. It's so dangerous for a beginner, she must have got hurt.  
"Is she okay," Brittany said, urgently.

"Yep. I went to visit mom, and while I was there I like looked in on her, and she was being so gross," Tina said, remembering with a shudder, "and it was actually like she wanted me to stay with her or something because nobody else was there, but I was like hello, I don't want to hang around here, who wants to spend time hospital if they don't have to?"

Rachel interjected, finally speaking up, having been added to the line at least five minutes ago, "It's obviously just for attention. I would know. I'm just so sick of Santana thinking she rules the school. People should be worshipping me and my talent, not her ever-unimpressive boobs. I'll be on Broadway while she's stuck at hooters, and not even as one of their highest paid girls."

"Yeah," Tina said. "ignore her Brittany. You're better than her."

"Santana's got great boobs," Brittany said dully, still trying to make sense of this. _Pills_, Brittany thought_. OD, Overdose, s_he realized, feeling physically knocked backwards as she took it in.

"She didn't tell me," she told Tina and Rachel in a small voice, realizing two things simultaneously, one big and one small. Santana had tried to kill herself, and these girls weren't really her friends. They flocked to where the drama was and ran with it. They only knew the meaning of friend when it suited them. They didn't care about Brittany. She had been so stupid not to see that. All they'd wanted to do was keep Brittany away from Santana just to see how it would play out. There were only two things that could make Brittany hate someone; people lying and being fake and people hurting Santana. They had just checked both boxes.

"Oh, so you haven't had to listen to her sob story yet, lucky you!" Rachel said, laughing.

"Who else have you told," Brittany asked slowly and carefully, making sure her voice was controlled.

"Nobody yet," they said in unison.

"You were first on our list," Rachel added.

Brittany summoned all her courage. "Tina and Rachel, if you tell anyone, I will hurt you," she said addressing them solemnly, copying what Santana usually said. She paused. She could tell they were stunned into silence.  
She then tried to find her own words. "I don't think I knew what hate was before this conversation, but I do now," she said simply, hanging up.

Minutes later her phone rang again. Numbly, Brittany checked caller ID. It was Santana. She tried, but she couldn't bring herself to answer, and the call rang out.

It was Santana's fifth time calling, before Brittany finally picked up.

"Hello," she whispered.

"Hi Britt," Santana said softly, and Brittany could tell her voice was shaking, "look, i've done something and you're not going to like it."

"I know," Brittany told her, the heaviness in her tone revealing she knew what Santana was about to say.

"Okay," Santana said, surprised. _Tina_, she thought angrily.

"Okay," Brittany said back.

It seemed like Santana wanted to say something more, but eventually as the silence grew, she decided she couldn't. "I've got to go," she said finally.

"Okay," Brittany said again, waiting for Santana to hang up.

When she did, the click sounded loud and jarring to Brittany, and she looked at the phone as if she had never seen it before.

All she could hear now was the dial tone. She felt hollow, as if she had already lost Santana, because she was sure that it wouldn't be long until Santana tried it again. Someone who had practiced something once, only got better at doing it a second time. Everyone knew that.

She leaned into her pillow and began to cry soundlessly, without tears.

She wasn't sure how much time passed by, she guessed it could have been hours.

Some time later still, she was surprised when Katie came and lay down with her, curling her body around her protectively, crossing her feet at Brittany's knees. She seemed surprised when Brittany accepted her touch so readily, leaning into her embrace. They both still easily fit on her single bed together, with plenty of space. Brittany knew that they wouldn't fit on here one day. Katie would probably be taller than her when she was an adult, she was growing so fast.

"I overheard on the other line. I'm sorry. I'm sorry your friend tried to do that," Katie told her. Brittany wasn't sure if she was just sorry about what she'd heard, or if she was sorry about not respecting Brittany's privacy, or both.

"It's okay," Brittany said monotonously. It was the third time she'd said that word now. She added a nod to go with it this time.

"Why aren't you freaking out?" Katie asked bluntly.  
_You always freak out about everything_, she thought silently in her head, trying to understand her older sister who she knew could cry for hours over a dead cat on the side of the road. Why not now?

"It happens when it happens," Brittany mumbled, "if you force yourself to cry, then I think it ruins feeling the emotion, because you're probably crying so everyone else can see you fall to pieces. I know I feel it and that's what matters. Sometimes those feelings spill out of me, and become something you can see too, but that's only because it's the right time for me to feel with my whole body."

Katie nodded, trying to be nice, although what Brittany had said hadn't exactly fitted into her world of team sports and pre-teen sitcom stars, where issues didn't get much deeper than her soccer ball going flat before a game. Katie's world never got that complicated, except of course for when it came to Brittany. Brittany had always made things complicated.

_She'll be eleven soon_, Brittany realized. Katie had carried the weight of having to be the successful child in the family since she was very young, but she had always taken it all in stride, confidently filling the gaps Brittany left in her parent's eyes. Her grades were good, she had a trophy cabinet literally packed with sports trophies, and she always seemed to have it all together, acting like she was years older than her age. _Maybe carrying all that weight ages you faster_, Brittany wondered, peering at her little sister. She was wearing one of those scratchy too-tight dresses that Brittany could never wear herself.

After a short while Katie nudged her, opening her mouth and closing it several times as if she wasn't sure what she wanted to say.  
"Mom says that when I'm older, I'll have to take care of you, sis," Katie whispered to her, "she said that you will never be able to live by yourself, and that I have to make sure you remember to eat and do your taxes and stuff, and change all your light bulbs. Just so you know, I will do that. You don't have to worry, I'll handle it. I will take care of you."

Brittany turned to look at her. Katie's young face was the picture of unhappy resignation, and Brittany had never seen her like that before. Brittany had seen that look on Santana's face many times; it was how a person looked when they felt like their future was already decided for them, and they wished they had a choice. From the moment she'd met her, Santana had never thought she'd become much more than trash. What did Katie want to be?

They think _I've_ got no future, Brittany suddenly realized, understanding that they all thought that meant there was also no future for Katie. You could never be free if from the moment you had been born, it was already decided that you had to assist your older sister. Katie's mouth was set in a thin, determined line as she curled an arm around Brittany's body, with the air of a parent to a child. It was easy to forget how young she really was, and how much older Brittany was to her, so Brittany vowed then and there that she never would.

Brittany had never felt like much of a big sister. It had usually been Katie teaching her how to do things instead, and standing up for her in the playground when she could. _That was what big sisters are supposed to do_, _not little sisters,_ Brittany thought.

Brittany turned so they were facing each other, long blonde hair splaying out on the pillows beside them and joining to meet at the ends. She shook her head slightly.  
"Katie, I won't let you do that. I never taught you how to ride a bike because it took me longer to learn than you did. I never read to you at night because you didn't really want to hear about stuff like the life cycle of a penguin every night, and by the time I figured out you'd probably rather hear little kid's books, you'd grown out of them. I took a lot of mom's time. All that time she spent yelling at me trying to teach me to follow her rules could have been time spent with you."  
Brittany paused, thinking it over. "I guess there's also been a lot of times where we did what I wanted, instead of what you wanted, like how you've had to eat a lot of spaghetti for family dinners, because I don't eat much else," Brittany admitted.  
"But I do love you. Very much. And, maybe the best way to show you is to set you free. You keep your future, Katie," Brittany promised her, "I'll be okay. I'll make it so I'm okay."  
_Maybe protecting her future makes up a bit for not protecting her in the past_, Brittany thought.

Sudden tears shone in Katie's eyes. "It doesn't make me happy, you know," she said.

"What doesn't?"

"All that stuff. Beating you at everything. Everything sucking."

"I know, Katie," Brittany said gently, "it's okay, I know."

"Even when we were learning to ride bikes, I wanted to fall off a bunch of times more than I ever did, just so you could sort of catch up. When my friends keep asking me why you're weird, sometimes it hurts because I want them to look up to you like everyone does with my friend Joni's sister who can drive and has like ten boyfriends at a time. I feel guilty when mom yells at you and says I'm perfect, because I'm not. She's just praising me because I'm not you, and I hate that, because I hate seeing you cry over not being like me. I guess that's why I think it should be me. I'm the one who should be responsible for you in the end, because if you weren't you, you would be like me," Katie said going dangerously close to talking about Brittany's disorder.  
"It could have been me and not you," Katie said with more feeling than Brittany had ever seen her use before, "I feel bad sometimes that it wasn't me. That I'm the normal one and you're not."

_I'm probably the most difficult part of her life,_ Brittany realized, suddenly.  
She held her sister's hand, making sure to look into her eyes. They looked alike, but Katie's hair was curly at the ends and her eyes were just starting to look more green than blue. And that was just on the outside. She was definitely her own person, just as Brittany was her own person too.  
"Being Brittany isn't all that bad," she told her finally, "I have good parts and bad parts, just like everyone else, only maybe more extreme. When I feel good I feel really good, and when I feel bad I feel horrible."  
It seemed important to her that Katie knew that. There was so much out there in the world that was much harder than her life. She shook her head. She didn't want Katie to feel bad for her at all, it didn't seem right.  
"I'm either hopeless or an expert at stuff. So maybe I'll be an expert at doing my taxes one day," she joked, "and you'll wonder why you worried. Maybe I'll even be president."

Katie smiled at her, the tension in her posture suddenly relaxing. With Brittany's sensitivity to everything, she had always seemed so fragile, and Katie had never considered calling her sister brave, but maybe she really was tougher than even Katie was herself. Above all, she believed what had just been said. Brittany always told the truth.

"So don't worry about me. I'll have a future, same as you," Brittany said, her smile fading when she realized that she may not be able to say the same thing about Santana. As her feelings finally took control of her body she burst into tears, and she felt Katie hug her as tight as she could. It was different this time, it was like Katie was caring for her because she wanted to, not because she thought she'd always have to.

"I'm sorry about your friend," Katie said, kissing Brittany's salty cheek, understanding in that moment that her sister was dealing with things that she could never understand. Without a shadow of any doubt, Katie realized that even though it was hard to see, there really was a strength inside of her sister, that she had never noticed before.

* * *

"Santana!" Brittany cried out, trying to get her attention. There were four vampires holding Santana still, ignoring her as she struggled against them, and another six pinning Brittany down on the floor.

"Let me go!" Santana shouted, "or I'll go all Lima Heights!"

The vampires laughed.

"Hear that?" one vampire said, "this puny mortal thinks that her bad neighborhood actually compares to the underworld?"

"Santana! Don't look into their eyes!" Brittany called, kicking out against the vampire on top of her, "you'll lose yourself again and you'll become…,"

Santana stopped struggling, and sagged against the vampires, who all grinned triumphantly. She opened her eyes and while they were still brown, she looked almost entirely different.

She wasn't Santana anymore, Brittany realized. She looked more like Faith, the rogue vampire slayer. Whenever they watched Buffy together, Santana always commented that she liked Buffy or Willow best, but Brittany disagreed. Her favorite character by far was Faith, but she guessed that was only because she reminded her of Santana. They were both super hot, but they also had the same reckless abandon and disregard for themselves, the same hidden vulnerability and the same fighting spirit.

Brittany jumped to her feet, and began staking the vampires left, right and centre until they exploded into a cloud of dust and they were alone again.

Brittany reached a hand out to Santana but she refused it, putting both of her hands around the ornate handle of the knife which was sticking out of her stomach. Brittany hadn't noticed it before. _How long had it been there?_ she wondered.

Santana shook her head at her. "What did you think, I'd wake up and we'd go for tea? You tried to gut me, Blondie, are you here to finish the job?"

"I didn't, Santana! I never meant to do this to you. I'm sorry! I should never have left you alone. I shouldn't have spent so much time with everyone else when you needed me. I don't even like Rachel, I swear."

"Funny that, you spent a lot of time looking out for her and trying to protect her from me," Santana said

"I was trying to protect you from you," Brittany moaned.

"Yeah, well a lot of good that did. You hurt me, I hurt you. I'm just a little more efficient at hurting myself. You might as well have stabbed me in the gut, B, because you stabbed me in the back when you told everyone about us!"

"I didn't mean to," Brittany said helplessly, "I swear."

"Whatever. I could do anything to you now, and you'd want me to. I could make you scream. I could make you die. I could make me die."

"I won't let you," Brittany reached forward and pulled the knife from Santana's stomach, putting her hand on the wound to stop the bleeding, but finding that she was unable to stop it. A thick tarlike substance poured from the wound, sticking to Brittany's fingers, and as it drained from her, Santana's features began to return to normal as Brittany took care to hold her up, keeping her on her feet.

"You saved me!" Santana said, and embraced Brittany, kissing her.

After several minutes Brittany broke the kiss.

"Do you promise you'll stay, you won't leave me?" she asked, anxiously.

"I'll stay," Santana said, and smiled at her, her mouth curving up against Brittany's chin where their faces were touching, "everything's okay now Brittany."

...

Brittany pushed herself up from under the water, gasping heavily, trying to suck air back into her lungs as she came back from fantasy to reality.

"Everything's okay now, Brittany," she repeated into the silence of the bathroom, hearing her voice echo slightly as she rubbed her arms, trying to get some feeling back into them. The bath water was cold. Brittany watched it ripple and even out, trying to stay as still as possible._ It was always on her mind. _

From the other side of town, Santana sat upright in bed, sweating heavily. _Another one of those dreams_, she thought. They were more like nightmares. She had to stand by like a ghost and watch herself blame Brittany for her suicide attempt over and over, powerless to step in and change it. _At least, these dreams somehow have a happy ending,_ she thought lying back down. _But god, for the most part they are awful, _she admitted to herself, shivering_._ This was obviously her guilt about the way she had told Brittany about her night in the hospital, manifesting in her subconscious form. She hadn't seen her in four days, not since the locker room incident, because the doctors had told her to have a week off school. She had so much to tell her, she just didn't know how or where to start.

Brittany extended her fingers outwards and peered at them. They were all wrinkled like the skin of a Shar Pei. It was the middle of the night. _It was always on her mind. _She didn't think she could survive school tomorrow; she'd have to stay at home again.

She wasn't sure why, but Brittany felt that the day they had kissed underwater at her house, was the day she had left part of Santana under, and she hadn't come up again the same.  
Maybe that was why when she held her head underwater, it felt like she could escape to be with Santana, and drown out reality in her mind. She looked at the timer_. One minute and fourteen seconds. That's two seconds longer than last time_, she thought.

While she was under, she saved Santana all the time now, in hundreds of different ways. There seemed to be no end to either Brittany's fantasies or fears.

She wasn't always a vampire slayer, some days she was a princess saving another princess or an alien saving an astronaut, or a pirate saving a beautiful lost girl captured by the other pirates. Often, there were orcs involved. Often, the situations revolved around her own guilt about the things she had done that must have pushed Santana over the edge.

The fantasy didn't matter, so long as in her mind she could keep saving Santana. She had to, she would do anything to stop thinking about the inevitable. _It was always on her mind. _

She knew it was her mind spiraling out of control again, but that didn't seem to make any difference to her anxiety. Every time she had to rise to the surface and come back to reality, that was when she began to have doubts that Santana was really still here. She'd tried to stop doing it, but found herself in floods of tears above water, defeating the point of being dry in the first place. I_t was always on her mind_.

It was sort of like back when she was a kid, and everyone had played the cracks-in-the-pavement game, never standing on any cracks for fear they would break their mother's back. Brittany was the only one who had been serious about it, looking intently for microscopic cracks so her mother didn't get hurt. Maybe it was superstition or a belief in magic, maybe it was pure obsessive compulsive tendencies, but Brittany felt so sure that holding her breath gave her the power to suspend both life and death, and that it was the only way she had left to keep Santana from hurting herself.

She felt like she could never step away from the water, and try to run to Santana's house and save her in person, because she might be dead before she could get there. She wanted to tell an adult like Mr Schue, but she had the same problem, that would mean she would have to step away from the water and stop 'protecting' her. She had to keep going night and day, or she would lose her.

Eventually she began to realize that these hours she spent locked in a compulsive routine were no longer about her living her life, and that the reason she wasn't living her life as she should, was because she was so afraid of Santana ending hers. She knew then that she had to stop.

_It was always on her mind. _

* * *

By the time Brittany could finally convince herself to step out of the bathroom, it was almost a week later. She decided she had to tell Mr Schue, and that was that. He was the only adult she could trust. Maybe he would be at Finn's party, Brittany knew that he had said he would help out Mrs Hudson and be a party chaperone. _That's where I will find him, and I'm lucky because teacher's don't actually live at school like I thought, so finding them after school hours is always hard,_ Brittany thought.

Quinn was still living at Finn's house for now, which Brittany guessed had to be really awkward since he now knew he wasn't the father of her baby. Finn's mom and Mr Schue had put their heads together and had decided that something had to be done about all the kids fighting all the time. Carol Hudson also felt that the tension was so thick at the dinner table at home, that it was like the three (or four, if you counted Quinn's unborn child) had never met before. Mr Schue decided it was time to pull out his secret weapon. He had something in mind that was so powerful it could in his opinion even bring about world peace if it had to; disco. In the 90s, he had made it all the way to Nationals with disco. Disco fever could do anything.

It was supposed to be a disco dance party, but Brittany privately thought that Finn hosting a dance party was like a taxi driver being elected to desex her Geography teacher's pug; he was just not qualified, and someone could definitely lose an eye, if not another important appendage from his clumsiness.

Brittany didn't want to go. She didn't want to be at a venue that she was sure was going to smell like old newspapers, beer and gym socks for any length of time let alone overnight, however her mom had been insistent on Brittany going, and now she was officially set on a Mr Schue hunting mission, Brittany had readily agreed.

Susan had been concerned about Brittany spending so much time in the house doing what looked like absolutely nothing. She'd had to try and cull down Katie's social engagements this week so she could get her schoolwork done, but with Brittany, she could leave her for three hours, and she'd still be in the exact same position. _Either in that damn bathtub or out in the pool, or when she'd been banned from those places, facedown on her bed_, Susan complained to herself. She'd decided that Brittany's apparent misery probably had something to do with Santana, and she had lectured her for the millionth time that she could under no circumstances hang out with that girl. She'd even threatened that Brittany couldn't live in her house if she was going to keep disobeying her and spending her time with girls like that.

Even in her state, Brittany could still see her mother was bluffing. Her mom was strict to the point of almost running a boot camp, but she wasn't cruel to her. She loved her daughter in her own misguided but protective way, though the number of times she still tried to change Brittany made it hard for her to feel like her mom had ever accepted her. Everything Susan did was in her opinion, 'for Brittany's own good' even if the teen didn't think so.

Susan didn't know Santana would likely be at Finn's party, and Brittany herself wasn't sure she'd even turn up. Who knows where she'd be on a Friday night? Who knew anything at all? How was Santana feeling? What was she thinking? Brittany didn't even have the first idea anymore.

* * *

_This party is so awkward_, Brittany thought, trying to flatten herself against the wall and remain undetected. She knew it wasn't polite to sit apart from the group, she had read that in the book her mom had bought her for her birthday, but right now she didn't care. Mr Schue wasn't here yet. Was he coming? Should she leave the party and try to find him elsewhere? Where would she start looking? Was he coming here? He must be. And maybe Santana was too. Then they would be in the same place and she could try to make this better. She just had to wait it out. Brittany's mind ran at a mile a minute as she went over her options.

She could hear yelling. She guessed Quinn was hormonal, because she was screaming at Finn, saying that he didn't want her living with him anyway, and that she should just move in with Puck, and he was hardly disagreeing with her. He was drinking straight from a bottle, and he looked as if he'd had enough of Quinn. She figured that if Mr Schue was here, he'd stop believing in disco, because all the bright lights Finn's mom had installed, and the loud seventies music was just making everyone angrier. If he asked her how the party went, she decided she couldn't lie, so she wouldn't say a single word.

Puck was picking up the slack, and was hovering around Quinn, catering to her every request. Brittany figured that the only reason Quinn hadn't moved in with him yet to get away from Finn, was because his room smelled worse than gym socks, it literally smelled woodsy like a skunk's den. When Santana came to school straight from his place and without going home first, she often smelled faintly of it, and Brittany hated that. When she'd commented, Santana had told her it was 'just weed' and she wouldn't be able to smell it for very long. She was wrong. Even when she hadn't been smoking, the smell still clung to her from being around Puck's things. Brittany just missed the days where she used to smell like strawberry lip gloss, Santana almost never used her Lip Smackers anymore.

Puck had managed to sneak alcohol past Finn's mother. Brittany snaked forward to inspect what everyone was drinking. She thought it kind of smelled like Uncle Albert. Having nothing better to do while she waited for Mr Schue, she leaned against the wall and thought back to her childhood. Once upon a time, Brittany could visit her Uncle and her Granny on the Pierce's family farm, but as Granny Audrey got older, she'd handed over the farm to Albert who as hard as he tried, couldn't keep up with it. He'd run himself into dept, and now he'd sold it, moving into a tiny house with Granny and his one remaining goat. Brittany didn't get to visit them much, because Susan had never got along with her mother, or any of her siblings.

_Nobody had ever got along with mom, really,_ Brittany thought drinking from a green bottle as it was passed to her. There were a couple of gatecrashers here, but they seemed friendly and they were including her now that she was within range of the group. She found herself trying to picture her Granny's face, needing the comfort. Susan had left Brittany with Granny for a year until she was four and a half, finding her an impossible, aggravating toddler to deal with. Brittany missed Granny and if she thought hard, she could remember life on the farm with the farm cats, the horses and ponies, and Emma the lamb.

"_Granny!" four year old Brittany shouted, running into the house dragging a tiny lamb with her, "guess what, Emma found me just like you said she would!"_

_Audrey looked at her granddaughter fondly. She had just got off the phone from a difficult conversation with Brittany's mother and after what she'd heard, the mere sight of the little girl who had been in her care for so long, almost broke her heart. It had been her son Albert's idea to give Brittany a lamb to try and get her used to caring for another living thing. _

_She worried about Brittany, the four year old meant well, but had so little regard for other people, as if she didn't even realize they were people at all. Albert had thought that maybe the first step to helping her, was to give Brittany a pet. Brittany had taken her role of caring for Emma very seriously once Albert had taken the time to painstakingly explain to her in detail that Emma was only a baby and needed Brittany to be very, very careful with her, and that Emma relied on her for everything. _

_Audrey had been ready at any minute to step in if Brittany forgot to feed her, or accidently mistreated her at any point. She didn't want to lose a lamb, but she also knew how devastated her sensitive granddaughter would be if something happened because of her. Brittany had proved her wrong, remembering to feed Emma and even sleeping with her to make sure she was warm and safe. Now Emma was bigger, it had taken a few floods of tears, but Audrey had eventually convinced Brittany that she was better off with the flock. She promised that Emma would still know Brittany, and would meet her at the paddock gate to say hello every now and then. _

"_She came to me, Granny, and she said 'BAAAAA, I love you Brittany,'" Brittany beamed, showing off her verbal prowess as she spoke, "I'm a good mommy!"  
__She spun around with Emma in the living room and Audrey didn't have the heart to remind her that no lambs were allowed in the house. Brittany might be a good mommy, but in her opinon Audrey's own daughter Susan wasn't. On the phone she had announced she was coming to collect Brittany today, because she was pregnant with another child and she was taking leave of her job.  
"I might as well pick Brittany up," she had said to Audrey over the phone, giving her no warning at all.  
__How could I protest, Audrey thought dismally, tearful as she watched her granddaughter. Susan is her rightful mother, I've just grown too attached to her. _

_Farm life suited Brittany better than life in the city. Susan had shown up one day at least a year ago, dumping the little blonde on her lap, saying that they couldn't keep a babysitter for more than a week, because Brittany was just too fussy and finicky and threw too many tantrums, particularly when the babysitters watched certain daytime shows on TV that apparently scared her. She couldn't take her to work with her, because she was too noisy and touched everything and couldn't sit still. Susan had run out of options. She had to keep her job, so she couldn't keep Brittany. Now that she had time off and had begun maternity leave and Brittany was old enough to start pre-school, she wanted Brittany back. _

_Audrey sighed, tears coming to her eyes. She'd miss her little girl. Sure, she was hard work, but the animals all loved her and she loved them. She knew here was a better place for the blonde to live, because nobody minded her running around and shouting at the top of her lungs. Peace and quiet were mere myths, and not deemed so important on a farm with moo-ing cows, stamping bulls and whinnying horses. It was a lonely life living in the country, she'd miss Brittany's quick little footsteps and infectious laughter. Albert would miss her just as much, he had come to love her too. _

"_Britty, I've got something to tell you," she said, kneeling in front of her, but knowing better than to reach out to her. _

"_Yes Granny," Brittany asked her, not seeing the tears in her grandmother's eyes. _

"_Mommy's coming to get you soon. But we're okay with that, aren't we?" Audrey said, trying to sound confident, "we always knew she was coming back one day." _

_Brittany needed her mother, and she knew that. Audrey was getting old, and she was not in the greatest of health. When she was gone, there would still be Albert, but he couldn't even look after himself most of the time. _

"_No, Granny," Brittany said solemnly._

"_No?" Audrey asked, wondering why she wasn't at least a little bit pleased. Had she fit in so well here, that she had forgotten her life before the farm?_

_Audrey didn't think so, because Brittany remembered everything. When they went into town, Audrey never even had to make a shopping list, Brittany remembered what they bought each time right down to the smallest of items. _

"_Brittany stay here with you, Uncle, and Emma," the little blonde announced. _

"_I'm sorry darling," Audrey said, "but you can't. You'll have a new brother or sister someday soon, won't that be exciting? Babies being born are always exciting."__  
_

"_No, it's spring soon. I want to see Daisy give birth, not Mommy," Brittany said, referring to a sweet, placid black and white cow, "and the ducks will have eggs to hatch too!" _

"_There's no place like home, Britty, you'll see," Audrey lied, knowing that Brittany was more at home here than she'd ever been. They spent the next half hour struggling to get Brittany out of her farm clothes, and back into the pretty pink dress she'd been wearing the day Susan had left her. It had been at least two sizes too big when she'd arrived, bought on sale, though still an extravagant purchase for Susan. It fit perfectly now, Audrey realized, her head in her hands._

_Brittany was looking at her dejectedly, as if she thought Audrey didn't want her. She knew she couldn't, but she desperately wanted to pick the little girl up and hug and kiss her goodbye, promising her that she could come back anytime. Audrey would always be there for her, and she would always love her no matter where she lived. She knew that soon there would be a tearful separation, and Susan would likely have to drag her out, kicking and screaming. The reality that they would be apart soon, hadn't hit either of them yet. Brittany was looking around the room, lost, as if she was trying to keep everything in sight so nothing changed, and Audrey's eyes were only on her. _

_Audrey knelt in front of her and used sign language to form the word 'family' with her hands, pressing her thumb and index fingers together while making a circular motion, her pinkies coming together at the back. She had taught Brittany sign language soon after she had arrived, realizing after a few disasters that Audrey's frequent affectionate touches only upset her, and that they needed another system. A close friend of Audrey's, who happened to be deaf had come up with the perfect solution. There were ways around most problems, Audrey thought, breaking into a smile in spite of herself when Brittany signed back, keeping her fingers together at the end and looking expectantly at Audrey, as if she wanted her to sign it again. _

_Audrey did, and Brittany hooked their pinkies together. She called for Albert, who came running in, his eyes red from crying. He stared at their hands. _

"_Family… you and you and me," Brittany said, and they all did the sign three-ways, joining their hands as one. _

Her mom wouldn't let her see Granny and her Uncle much anymore, and she had to catch four buses to get to their little house herself. _Ugh_, she thought shaking the bottle, flipping it over and trying to read the label. Whatever this was kind of burned going down her throat, and she didn't like it.

Her mom had hated the freedom of life in the country and the spirit of its people, and had traded it for another dead end town just to get away from her family. She wasn't sure why her mom didn't want to be associated with them, but she felt sorry for Uncle Albert, having to file for bankruptcy and lose the farm. It had been in the family for generations. She was sad that Granny didn't have enough money to pay for her medical bills. She missed them so bad. She wished her mom would help them out. She guessed that 'family' didn't mean very much to her mom at all.

She took another drink from the bottle, finding it went down easier this time. Puck took it back, finding her a cup and pouring her something else from a bottle with a different label. Brittany took it, and then backed away from the group into another corner where Mercedes and Matt were trying to cheer up Quinn. Brittany sat there quietly as the minutes rolled by, trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible.

_Family, really seems to mean something to Mercedes_, she thought as she overheard the diva's conversation, listening to the girl call everyone her 'sisters' and 'brothers' even though they weren't actually related to her at all. _Mercedes is so cool,_ Brittany thought. Realizing she had finally finished the drink in her had, Brittany accepted another, and wandered over to Mercedes, planting herself at her side, listening to the sound of her voice and finding it comforting. The moment she arrived, Quinn stormed off dragging Matt with her, evidently ready for another round of 'abuse Finn.'

Mercedes was amused at the blonde's sudden attachment to her arm. Honestly this girl was so sensitive to being touched, but on she own terms she had no boundaries whatsoever. She could crawl all over people and touch them without a thought.  
_Girl be crazy_, Mercedes thought, stifling a giggle, sitting still as Brittany ran her fingers up and down her arm mumbling that it was 'such a nice color'.  
_How much exactly had she already had to drink? Oh well, at least she's having a good time now,_ Mercedes reasoned, as Brittany seemed enthralled by her skins texture. She'd looked so sad before, like she'd been left out in the rain for too long.

Finally, Brittany's blue eyes wandered upwards to meet Mercedes', and they widened as if she had only just realized that what she was doing wasn't the most normal thing in the world. She immediately tried to start a conversation, ranting and raving about the first thing that she happened to remember Mercedes liked; those potato things called tots. She really wanted to impress her, she couldn't help it. Mercedes was so comfortable and proud of being her own person, and that instantly put her on a pedestal in Brittany's hall of heroes. She also liked her bright, cheerful smile and sassy attitude.

Twenty minutes later, Brittany surveyed her options. She had run out of comments about tots ten minutes ago, and she wasn't sure what else Mercedes liked. She took another drink, and thought maybe she might be able to write an acrostic poem. How do you spell tots? How many x's were in a t? Being polite was such hard work.

Brittany fanned herself, it was getting hot in here. There were a lot of bodies packed into a small space and the lights seemed hot, even though they weren't sitting all that close to the dance floor right now. She threw her top off without thinking about it, and went to unhook her bra. Clothes were itchy and stifling. Her skin couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe. Her head felt kind of fuzzy.

"Woah, woah woah, hey!" Mercedes said, stopping her in her tracks.

Brittany looked up, a comical picture of a deer caught in headlights.

"No reckless teen nudity. This ain't that kind of party, Li'l Eve," Mercedes joked, redressing her.  
"Disco ain't that much fun," she added as an afterthought, gesturing to the big disco ball and rolling her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Brittany said, realizing what she'd done, "I forget that clothes are important, sometimes."  
That keep-your-clothes-on-in-public rule was so hard to remember, especially when the scratchy fabric always felt like sandpaper on her back. _Santana always joked that I should join an ant colony_, Brittany thought, wistfully thinking of her friend. Or maybe that was a nudist colony. Whatever, ants were naked too, except for when they wore pants to see their Queen. You could never be naked in front of royalty no matter who you were, that was totally the rules, and everybody knew that.

Mercedes waved a hand dismissively. "It's already forgotten, and girl, I like tots more than the average bear, but you even more crazy for them than me," Mercedes said, smiling at her. She realized that Brittany had been just trying to be friendly, and her misguided-though-enthused attempts at conversation weren't wasted on her.

Brittany couldn't help being honest. "I was just talking about stuff you liked to make you like me," she said.

Mercedes laughed a deep rumbling laugh. "By raving about tots for twenty minutes? You cray-cray?"

Brittany shrugged, a small smile on her face. "I thought we might bond over them."

"You can't bond over tots, Li'l Eve, they're about as deep as deep fried chicken, as good as that stuff is."

"Why did you call me Little Eve?" Brittany asked, shuffling closer to her now that she was again fully dressed, and moving further away from Finn who was doing a drunken dance that kind of looked like his balls had become squashed in his pants, and he was trying to free them. _Mercedes called me that twice now_, she realized. It kind of sounded like a rapper name. Had Mercedes heard her in the school showers after Cheerio practice, or was it about her song last week?

"Well, it's kind of biblical, Jesus is my homeboy, you down with that?" Mercedes asked, her whole aura naturally giving off soul and sass without even trying.

"I am down with that," Brittany said in her usual monotone, although meaning every word. Her mom had sent her to bible camp once, and even though she had done everything wrong, and had got herself into trouble roughly every ten minutes, she had still somehow managed to enjoy it. She took another sip from her cup and pouted when she found it empty.

"Well, okay," Mercedes said, wondering how much of this was going to go over the more-than-slightly drunk girl's head, but deciding to go with it anyway. Anything was better than hearing Brittany's tots theme song again.  
"Listen up. So there was a boy named Adam, and a girl named Eve. They lived in a garden called 'Eden' which was full of wonderful and beautiful things."

"With unicorns?" Brittany asked, resting her head on Mercedes shoulder, listening intently.

"You got it, girl, heaps of unicorns. And fruit trees. That part is important. Think of all the beautiful things you've ever known and put them all in that garden," Mercedes said, watching Brittany's face screw up in concentration as her mind fantasized.

"Anyway, there was just one tree in the middle of the garden that Adam and Eve couldn't touch. God said that if they ate the fruit from that tree, then bad things would happen. Little Eve and Little Adam would then have to have knowledge of good and evil, and right and wrong."

"Why is that so bad?" Brittany asked, curiously.

"I'm getting there, let me finish the story first," Mercedes said patiently.

"Little Eve and Little Adam were going okay, they stayed away from that tree for ages until a serpent, or Satan or whatever, tempted them, making them question the same thing you did just now; why is eating from the tree of knowledge of good and evil and being able to make their own choices so bad? So they did it, they ate an apple and then things changed."

"How?" Brittany asked, tugging on Mercedes' arm gently, unable to stand the anticipation.

"Well, they couldn't be naked anymore for one thing," Mercedes explained, "they used to run around the garden naked, because they were like you, it felt good and they didn't realize what the world is like."  
Mercedes paused. "See my hand, I could use it to hold yours or to hit you couldn't I?"

"Yeah," Brittany said, "but I didn't think of that before. I was just touching it 'cause it's a pretty color and soft and smooth."

"Well, that's kind of the same idea. You haven't tasted the same forbidden fruit as the rest of us have because you're too pure to realize most of the time how things could be used against you, and how others might harm you, or even how you might harm others. You can't just throw your clothes off like you did before, because other people might look at that differently and try to use your body for evil. By eating the fruit and choosing to be separate from God, man created evil, and all of a sudden that garden was full of thoughts about how all things that had only seemed good before, could be used to do bad things."

Mercedes paused again, and took a breath. "So, one of the first things God said to them, was to put some clothes on for their own protection. And that's why I call you Li'l Eve, because you remind me of her, before she ate the apple."

Brittany thought about this, turning it over in her mind.

"I got a lot of time to think in church," Mercedes joked, "they encourage quiet reflection, and I pray for everyone in Glee club at least sometimes, and that includes you."

Brittany nodded in appreciation. It meant a lot to her that Mercedes thought of her sometimes. "What do you mean about the body being used for evil?" she asked, realising that part wasn't clear to her.

"That's probably why everyone seems so protective of you," Mercedes told her, "you don't see evil, so you tend to not see people for who they truly are. You've got a few people looking out for you now that don't want to see anything happen to you, and it's not really my place to answer your question. There are so many terrible things that humans can do to each other. I guess some of the worst is when people use each other for fun, like as a thing or object for their own pleasure, or when people force each other to have sex against their will. That's evil, Little Eve."

Brittany's breath caught in her throat. _Like people have done to Santana_, she thought. She found it weird that other people could see Santana's body differently to how she saw it. She tried to make it add up in her head, but she couldn't. She looked at all bodies like they were precious things, but she especially looked that way at Santana's. She'd hated it most of all that just before Lauren had thrown the slushie last week, she had whispered to her friends that Brittany wanted to 'do naughty things' to Santana, like all Brittany wanted to do was to hurt her. She hated those kinds of feelings being forced on her by other people, because when other people said those things, she was forced to picture them, and then she felt sick.

Brittany continued to contemplate the whole conversation, while Mercedes sampled some of the party food, discarding Finn's cooking almost immediately after tasting it.

"Ugh, I won't be eating no more of that!" she said, picking something from another plate that she thought was probably made by his mother instead.

"I want to eat from that tree," Brittany said finally, waving Finn away as he hovered over her, evidently unsure if she was talking about eating from his plates of food or not.

"Why oh why?" Mercedes asked her, trying to figure her out, "keep your sunshine and rainbows, girl."

"Because there's a garden of Eden in my head, but there isn't one in the real world, and I have to try to live in the real world now Mercedes," Brittany said earnestly, trying to push through her alcohol induced confusion to say what Mercedes had helped her figure out.  
"Because if I live there in the garden, then I'm not really here. I can't be locked up inside myself, living in a separate garden to everyone else, because I can't reach people from there."  
_And I have to reach Santana_, she thought. _I have to stop fighting vampires or pirates every night in a world where I can always win. I have to keep trying with her for real, even though real life is harder._

"I have to eat from that tree, so I can be with Santana," Brittany told Mercedes, "and I have to eat from that tree because otherwise I'm not much of a person. When I'm good, it doesn't mean as much, because I think it's better to have chosen the good thing, or even the bad thing, rather that to have not chosen anything at all. You have to eat the apple to make all your own choices to be responsible right? I have to be responsible enough to 'live independently' one day and not be a burden on either Katie, or Santana."

Mercedes stared at Brittany, her mouth open in shock, not knowing what to say back to all that. What a conversation. _Li'l Eve don't bother with no smalltalk_, she thought.

_And, if I'm going to do bad stuff, then it's not fair that I get to be unaware of it because I don't know it's wrong_, Brittany thought to herself, feeling Mercedes wordless take the drink from her hands, as if it wasn't safe to think this much and drink at the same time. _I wish I never did bad stuff at all, but inflicting pain on others and not even knowing it, is both bad and unfair, instead of just bad. _

Brittany stared at the print of Mercedes' jacket. It kind of looked like Lord Tubbington's fur. _If you can't make choices or do things for yourself, then it's kind of the same as being a pet,_ Brittany realized suddenly, thinking of how her cats had no responsibilities at all, they were always just taken care of. Sometimes, she liked to pretend they were more human than they were, and make them seem more responsible for themselves, pretending they could cook or clean, and do things that even Brittany didn't know how to do herself. It was fun, but mostly it made her less lonely to look at them less like a pet, and more like an equal companion, on all the days she spent in her room alone.

It made her head hurt to think about it, but she could imagine Santana dreaming of Brittany in that way, projecting abilities that Brittany didn't have onto a re-imagined version of her, just so she could feel less lonely and less like a teacher and caretaker, and more like an equal companion. Brittany never wanted it to come to that.

"People like that don't really live _with_ other people, they only live _beside_ them, and that's not good enough when you love someone," Brittany finished, bringing a piece of Mercedes' hair up to her face and tickling herself with it._  
If Santana ever really wanted me to be with her, then no way am I letting her do most of the work to keep us to together_, she thought, her head beginning to pound with these thoughts that seemed too big for her mind.

Mercedes couldn't understand half of what Brittany said, but it sounded like something that she was very serious about. _This shit got kind of deep._ _She looks so vacant half the time, but baby girl got so much going on in that head of hers_, Mercedes thought.  
She was silent for a beat, not minding in the least that Brittany was fiddling with her hair. _Boy, Mercedes Jones must be so fascinating tonight_, she thought with a chuckle shaking her hair out for Brittany to play with. Delighted, Brittany began giving her miniature plaits, and on her third plait, Mercedes' thoughts became clear.  
"If only you could eat half the apple," she said finally, "and live in both worlds."

Brittany considered that for a time, maybe that was it. She'd think on it.  
"I only eat bananas," Brittany said, grinning, making a joke to lighten the mood, "I hate apples."

Mercedes laughed, throwing her head back. "Figures," she said.

"I've got a nickname for you," Brittany said, suddenly.

"Yeah?" Mercedes asked, turning in her chair to face her.

"Well it's kind of Disney, you down with that?" Brittany asked, mimicking what Mercedes had said earlier, and putting her hands on her hips, giving off as much sass as she could.

"Praise!" Mercedes said pointing her finger in the air, impressed, "that was dead on. I could have sworn you were me just now."

"I'll call you Wheezy," Brittany said, "from Toy Story 2."  
Brittany had been very upset that all the plush of that super cool penguin had been sold out of the Disney store. She didn't want Woody or Buzz instead, she couldn't imagine what those two would get up to together in her room when she was out.

"Whooo! I know who you're talking about. That bird can sing. I'll accept the honor," she exclaimed, waving her hand in a queenly gesture.

Brittany's face became serious. "You're nice, Wheezy," she said, "Santana thought you would tell, but you didn't."

"Tell?" Mercedes face took on a confused expression, "tell who what?"

"Tell everyone. About last Friday," Brittany said, lowering her voice, "what you overheard."

Mercedes shook her head, not able to catch up.

"On the phone," Brittany prompted.

"Oh, that!" recognition flooded her features, "hell to the no, girl. I'm many things but I'm not no sneak. What you do, is your own business, and I ain't one to judge you and rat on a sister."

Brittany bit her lip. "You promise?"

"Swear on my weave," Mercedes nodded, patting her knee gently, seeing how much it was troubling her.

"Thank you," Brittany said wishing she had paper so she could write Mercedes a proper thank you note and draw her a picture. There was no better way to thank someone than that.

"Now, tots, tots, tots, Santana, Santana, Santana. Enough about them. Lets dance," Mercedes said, pulling her to her feet.

"Oh… I don't think I can right now," Brittany said, not really feeling up to it. She hadn't slept much this week and she was feeling kind of nauseous. She just wanted to wait for Santana and Mr Schue to get here, or wait until she was sure they weren't coming, and then go looking for Mr Schue. Santana said that he spent all his time in vest addict anonymous meetings, maybe there was a phone number in the phone book that she could call and ask if he was there.

"What, you forget how?" Mercedes said with a grin, "not possible. I saw you krumping last week, let's see a bit of that."

"No, I haven't forgotten," Brittany said alarmed. She would hate to forget how. She got to her feet quickly so she could prove Mercedes wrong.

Mercedes beamed at her. "Well come on then," she said leading Brittany to the dance floor. Finn's mother had hired the largest and brightest disco ball she had ever seen, and had installed it on the Hudson's relatively low basement ceiling. The effect was almost blinding as the strobe lights beamed their flash around the room. Mike Chang was loving it, and was hopping around the room in a pattern formation where certain colors landed. It kind of reminded Brittany of an laser beam alarm system she had seen in a movie once, where the character was a cat burglar and had to steal a painting by contorting their body to avoid every beam to get to the prize undetected.

"It's kind of like a rave party in here," Mercedes told her, yelling to be heard over the music.

"A… rage party?" For the millionth time, Brittany looked around for Santana. That would really be her kind of party.

She started teaching Mercedes some moves.

"What's the secret to krumping?" Mercedes asked, breathless.

"Just pretend you're getting attacked by invisible bees," Brittany said, giggling in spite of the fact that it was starting to feel like someone was pounding at her head, making her more nauseous than ever. Mercedes was sort of getting it. Brittany hadn't seen anyone krump like that before, but she was giving it her all, that was for sure.

"Damn! I'm allergic to bees," Mercedes said, getting into it a bit more and getting into a groove.

"You're doing great," Brittany told her, slowing down a bit and crossing her hands over her chest.

"You alright?" Mercedes asked. Brittany wasn't looking so hot.

"Yeah. I'm fine," Brittany said, trying to shake the heavy feeling in her head away. All that thinking must have been really hard work.

They danced for a few more minutes, until Brittany started getting shaky on her feet. A thin layer of sweat coated her skin. The blinking lights seemed to physically blind her each time they flashed.

"Hey," Mercedes said, patting her shoulder, "you should sit down or something."

"It's these lights," Brittany muttered to her, "my brain can't keep up with the lights."  
She leaned against her, falling down into a seated position on the floor, resting her head on her knees. She hated this part. It always felt like she was about to be sick and pass out, or both. It always happened so quickly too, overwhelming her before she could do anything.

"Finn turn your freakin' ball off," Mercedes said, taking the authority quickly, and snapping her fingers.

"But…," Finn started.

"But, my butt, Finn, are you trying to give all of us a seizure?" Mercedes said, jabbing him with an annoyed poke, then trying to take a guess as to what was happening with the taller girl. Brittany wasn't moving or convulsing around like she'd seen one boy do in the middle of a church sermon once, and that confused her. She was just very stiff and unresponsive. She cushioned Brittany's head on her knee, trying to get her attention.

Brittany wasn't sure if she was sitting or lying down now. She couldn't feel Mercedes' hands gripping her shoulders, but through a distant kaleidoscope-like blur, she could see her face.  
"I'm fine," she tried to tell her again, not sure if her mouth was cooperating, "It's really just the lights."

It wasn't like this hadn't happened before, sometimes she couldn't even see certain movies at the theatre because the pictures on the screen changed too quickly and the screen was too bright. It was usually Santana's job to check and see if the movie they wanted to go and see together was going to be okay for her, which was why nearly every time they went to the movies together, Santana had already seen it and was always more interested in Brittany than what was on the screen. All movies projected that large, with so much light stimulus and sound, gave Brittany a headache. Some, particularly action blockbusters which she had seen without Santana's approval, had taken her closer to this point. When she took in too much light and sound for her brain, it got to a point where it was like everything shut down. The world went mute, everything went blurry, and her legs gave out. _I should have known not to go near the lights, Brittany_ thought. _Responsible thinking… responsible thinking is important._

Suddenly, Santana's face came into view, and Brittany tried to focus on her and come back to earth. Santana was angry, she could see her hands whipping back and forth. She'd seemed mad at Mercedes at first, and the view of the underside of Mercedes' chin had disappeared in favor of the underside of Finn's. Brittany grimaced. He had like one hair on his chin, just one._ Why is he touching me_, Brittany thought, hating every second of it. _One whisker Finn, on his chin, Lord T has heaps more than him, _she thought, humming a tune in her head. They were away from the lights now. Brittany could tell, because things were getting clearer and she was starting to regain control of her body. The first thing she realized was that Santana somehow had a hold of her hand.

"I'll put her on my Mom's bed," Finn said, adjusting her weight in his arms.

"Gently," Santana ordered, following him worriedly. She let go of Brittany's hand so Finn could put her down. She hated that she couldn't pick her up herself, there had been so many times where she'd felt so useless because she wasn't physically strong enough to take care of her.

"Responsible thinking," Brittany was murmuring, "stay out of the garden, make your own choices, don't be a burden."

Santana was glad she was still speaking. Not going completely mute was always a good sign that she was still functioning okay.

"Are you sure I shouldn't call an ambulance?" Finn said, "like are you sure this isn't a seizure?"

"No," Santana said, brushing Brittany's hair back, "it's nothing like that."

"Are you sure?" he asked hesitantly, repeating himself for the third time. He didn't really want anyone dying in his mom's bed.

"I'm sure," Santana snapped, "trust me, I know what I'm doing and you have no idea, so just let me take care of her."  
"And tell Mercedes thank you," she added, after a beat. _She never squealed on us, and she took care of Brittany while I was too freakin' scared to show up_, she thought.

She turned her attention to Brittany who was blinking at the wall looking away from her. "Hey baby, are you okay?" she asked, her voice quiet and soothing.

Brittany jumped at the sound anyway, turning to face Santana, reaching her hand up to her face as if she had to check she was still here. She counted her eyes, her ears, her lips and her nose, making sure every part of her really was still all intact. She really hadn't been sure if she was ever going to see Santana again or not. The only time she had thought that she could be sure that Santana was safe, was when she had been holding her breath underwater. She'd been out of the bathtub for hours now, and she had begun to question everything.

"Those lights were really bad Britts, I even felt a bit dizzy looking up at them," Santana said, knowing that Brittany's mind lacked the filter hers did, and how it tried to take in every detail of light shows like that, and got overloaded, instead of skipping over them and getting a rough idea of them like her brain could.

"They told me you'd been drinking before, and you still managed not to to get sick this time," Santana told her, placing her hand on Brittany's stomach and rubbing up and down, trying to calm her. She could sense how upset she was.  
Brittany's eyes, wide with fear, were trained directly on her face. Santana knew that she was probably upset about having that meltdown in front of everyone, but by her body language, she knew that the main reason Brittany's emotions seemed so heightened right now, wasn't even about that.  
_It's about me_, _and who could blame her? _she thought.

One thing that was playing on her mind, floating above all the other issues at hand, was that she'd never known Brittany to drink before. Santana usually knocked back a few a Puck's house when he didn't have anything better, but she was pretty sure this was Brittany's first time. _What does this mean_, Santana wondered. _What was going on with her? Is she angry with me? Is she afraid of me, or what I might do?_

Santana hoped and prayed that Brittany would remain a bit out of it for the time being, and she wouldn't ask any difficult questions about Santana's time in the hospital while she already didn't feel well. Brittany could only take so much, and she was probably already at her limit.  
"I'll take you home okay? You've had more than enough excitement for one night," she said, fixing Brittany's outfit and pulling her top down for her.

Her vision having almost returned to normal, Brittany watched Santana's hands as they moved over her body. As her eyes roamed, travelling over Santana's form, she caught sight of a band-aid on Santana's wrist.

Santana followed her gaze, then watched Brittany seem to crumple like paper, all the air seeming to deflate out of her and leave her body, tears springing to her eyes.

"It's not what you think," Santana told her quickly ripping it off, and showing her under the band-aid quickly, so she would know it was just where the IV had been at the hospital.  
"I'm not even going to do that anymore," she said, guessing by her reaction that Brittany had figured out the one thing she had tried to hide from her for so long, and that explained why she was so emotional.

"_Where'd you get that scar, San?" fourteen year old Brittany asked her, as they lay on chairs by the pool, getting some sun. _

_Santana cringed, glad her eyes were hidden behind her sunglasses. She quickly pulled her skirt down lower, so it covered her legs properly.  
"Your cats," she lied. She hated lying to Brittany so bad, but how could she ever tell her that she'd done it herself? _

"_I don't remember that," Brittany said concerned, "did you guys get in a fight?"  
Brittany pulled off her pink sunglasses and kneeled down in front of Santana's chair, running her fingers over the old wound, as if she could heal it._

"_Britts, you don't have to do that," Santana said embarrassed. It just felt wrong to have Brittany touch her with such care, in a place she was so ashamed of. _

"What do you mean you're not going to do it anymore?" Brittany asked, hollowly, her face blanking into nothingness, her complete lack of expression seeming almost eerie to Santana, but very much telling it's own story.

"I never even did it very much to begin with," Santana pleaded, "just sometimes, after Tomas left my room or sometimes, after a really bad day. Those fucking uniforms don't really leave much to the imagination do they? So, I never had much room and I hated that I did it in the first place. I hated that I couldn't let you sit on my lap after I'd done it because I was afraid that the cuts might open up and bleed, and then you'd see. I didn't want to worry you, baby, but it's going to be okay now. I've been thinking and…"

Realization dawned on Brittany's face. She'd been upset seeing the physical evidence of Santana's suicide attempt, but Santana was talking about something much, much different. She sat up and pushed aside Santana's skirt, the abruptness of it silencing the other girl, and she found the old scar she had thought her cats made. It looked different to how she remembered, like it had been opened and closed a few times since and there were a few others surrounding it.

There was a sudden silence, and a slow build of tension, as Santana watched Brittany's face anxiously, seeing it become pale, her jaw slack and lifeless.

The next few minutes went by without any kind of conscious interpretation on Brittany's part.

The first familiar thing that Brittany heard was Santana calling her in obvious distress, sounding very far away.

"Brittany! Don't!" Santana begged her, her voice rising at the end into a scream.

Brittany could barely hear her, or even begin to register what she was doing. She felt as if she had left her body and had become only a passive observer. She couldn't feel Santana's hands catch hers and try to hold on, as she fought against her, struggling to break free. Brittany heard a muffled hum come to her ears, and didn't have the presence of mind to realize it was the sound of her own cries, sounding more like a wild animal in pain than a human. Her fists pounded against her own forehead, catching on blonde hair and bruising the skin, and she raked her fingernails down the side of her face before Santana could stop her.

"Brittany! No, Brittany, please!" Santana cried, "baby, look at me. Come back to me."  
She tried to take Brittany's face in her hands and look at the damage, but Brittany pulled back, angling herself out of reach.

Running out of ideas, Santana came forward and enveloped her in her arms, holding her as tightly as she could. She'd heard that if you did that, it could depress the nervous system and stop hyperventilation, forcing people to calm down. She tried to hold Brittany together, wrapping herself around her stiff body with every ounce of her strength.  
"Somewhere, over the rainbow way up high," Santana began, singing to her softly in English, her voice shaking, the low notes unusually off key. She'd never seen Brittany this bad, and she hadn't even seen her come close to this since they were kids.  
"There's a land, that I heard of once in a lullaby. Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue," she sung, feeling Brittany go slack in her arms, though not for a moment did she consider letting go, or even trying to loosen her hold.  
"And, the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true," she finished, then lapsed into Spanish for the next verse, not because she meant to, but because she was scared out of her mind.

Finally, Brittany hugged her back and began to cry, tears spilling down her cheeks.

"Shhhhh," Santana whispered to her, feeling tears coming to her own eyes, glad to feel Brittany's arms around her.  
"I'm not hurting you, am I?" she asked, wondering if she should ease her hold on her now, even though she had no desire to.

Sobbing, Brittany shook her head, not wanting Santana to let her go.

"It's okay. I'm here, everything's okay now. Hey, what did you do to your pretty face?" Santana asked her, carefully wiping a thin trickle of blood from her cheek.  
"Shhh, you just rest now and take deep breaths, okay?" she said, guiding Brittany's head to her shoulder, not caring in the least if she got blood on her outfit.

Brittany seemed surprised when she caught sight of the blood on Santana's thumb which was apparently hers, but she realized that with only two people here, she must have done it herself. She also wondered why her head hurt so much. She couldn't speak her mind, but her face probably said it all. _I must have just done the same thing to my face as you did to your body, Santana, she thought. _

Santana shook her head. She understood in that moment what it must be like for Brittany. A couple of bruises and a cut on her cheek that she hadn't even meant to do, was nowhere near what Santana had collectively done to herself over the years. She knew that Brittany adored her, she could only guess what it must have been like for her, watching Santana treat herself like she was garbage all this time.  
She'd just got a taste of it, watching Brittany attack herself like that, and what Santana had done to herself for years, physically and emotionally, was no different. Remembering how caring Brittany had been when she had found her first scar when they were fourteen, even if she hadn't known how it was made at the time, Santana cupped her chin and drew her closer. Finding there was no resistance this time, she kissed her cheek, running her thumb over the wound.

Brittany looked guiltily into Santana's face which she'd noticed was considerably paler than usual.

Santana picked up on it right away. "Don't feel bad baby, it wasn't your fault," she told her, "I don't blame you for getting really upset. These things happen."

Brittany shook her head. That that wasn't all that she had meant. She cried harder in frustration, her sobs becoming harsher, and more raspy, as if they were coming from the deepest place possible inside of her. She caught Santana's wrist and ran her finger over where the band-aid had been as if she was trying to tell her something.

"Oh…," Santana said, realizing what she meant, knowing exactly where her mind had gone.  
_How could Brittany ever think she could ever drive someone to do that?_ Santana wondered. Santana was the one who had screwed up, how could Brittany blame herself for this?

"None of this is because of you, Britt, I didn't do this because…," she said, trailing off when she realized how sick the other girl looked. She grabbed Miss Hudson's waste paper basket and was just in time before Brittany got sick, a combination of the alcohol and the stress of what she was feeling.

Santana stroked her hair, making sure it was held back until she was done. "Just listen to me, okay Britt? I really need to tell you something now, and it's really important, okay?"

Brittany nodded, and pulled away from the wastebasket, letting Santana take it away. She closed her eyes, feeling Santana caress her face and clean her up.

"Being in the hospital sucked," she said reaching over and trying to pull Brittany into her lap.

Brittany shook her head and dug her toes into the bed. She'd just been sick and she didn't want to gross Santana out. She also knew it wasn't her place to get all the attention. Santana had been the one in the hospital. Brittany had already had a complete meltdown on her, and that had been bad enough.

"Yes," Santana said to her, refusing to take 'no' for an answer.

Brittany didn't move.

"Let me take care of you now, Britt," she begged, until Brittany finally obliged and crawled into the space between her legs, snuggling into her, as Santana locked her arms around her, turning her head so she could speak quietly in her ear.

"It really sucked," Santana continued, "and because I was still conscious they gave me this stuff, like this drink."  
Santana wrinkled her nose, her opinion on this procedure clear. "It made me throw up really …violently. Trust me, you looked pretty good just now compared to me. It was really horrible. They only kept me overnight, but I still felt sick for days," Santana said rocking Brittany gently from side to side when she felt her tense up.  
"It's okay, I'm okay now," Santana reassured her again, "I'm just telling you the story."

Brittany nodded at her, and squeezed her hand, trying to tell her she'd be strong for her

"Anyway, while I was throwing up everything I've ever eaten from birth to that moment," Santana said making a face, "I got to thinking, like I questioned why I had done this to myself. I think I did it because I just got tired. I was tired of the looks and people judging me, and I was tired of trying to be what everyone wanted me to be, and never really even getting there."  
Santana shrugged. "I guess that made me feel like _all_ of it was too hard. Everything. Even the waking up in the morning and the trying to get to sleep at night."

"Then, when it came down to it, I couldn't do it. I was tired of everything, but I still couldn't leave you, and I didn't even want to leave you. I don't think I realized before how much power I actually had to hurt myself, and it really scared me. Running straight into the darkness just made me realize that I didn't want to be there, it wasn't what I truly wanted," Santana said. _I never truly wanted to die_, she thought to herself.

"I could have died," Santana said, nuzzling her nose into Brittany's neck, seeing that hearing her say those words had caused a fresh wave of tears, "but I came downstairs and asked for help from my mom, the one person I really didn't want to see. I guess I kind of realized, that all those reasons, as strong as they seemed… all the reasons I had to die, obviously weren't as strong as my reason to live."

"So then I started thinking about it from the other side, about you, and _what_ makes you my reason to live. By then I was just lying in my hospital bed, because they do keep you at least 24 hours," Santana said to her, looking for some sign that Brittany was understanding her. She watched her inhale and exhale, her chest rising and falling slowly, the act of it seeming exhausting to her. When Santana didn't immediately speak, Brittany squeezed her hand as if to say she was okay, and she was listening. Santana squeezed back.

"Before I took those pills, I'd just had a fight with my mom. She found out about Tomas and she pretty much told me she could never love me. I had looked at it by semantics, and I felt like the two people who were _supposed_ to love me, my mom and dad, and who I thought were my only family, had both disowned me. I felt so alone in that moment, like I thought I had nothing tying me to this world, and that's how I think I got started swallowing pills that day, if you can consider that a proper excuse," Santana said, her forehead wrinkling.

"Fast forward another couple of hours, I was lying on my side looking at the white walls, and I realized that even though you've never used the words, you've taught me something about family. You've made me see it's a place where people love you _no matter what_. You're the only family I've ever had, baby," Santana told her, turning her to the side so she could look into her eyes. She hooked a lock of Brittany's hair behind her ear, smoothing it over and running her fingers through it. The other side needed fixing too, but Santana couldn't get to it while Brittany's head was resting on her shoulder.

"If it wasn't for you, I don't think I would even know what it's like to have a real family. I've made so many mistakes, but you've always forgiven me for them and you're the one still here," she told her. She could feel Brittany's whole body trembling, although she wasn't sure whether it was from exhaustion or emotion.

"I think about you, and all we've been through together, and how it's true, you've been the only one who has always loved me, no matter what. My mom, she could hardly stand to be near me when I was throwing up at the hospital, she left me even though I was so scared and begged her not to," Santana said, her voice shaking a little when it came to admitting she was scared.  
"You've always taken care of me when I've been sick, and I know you'd have stayed with me, wouldn't you? The first thing you ever did when I met you was help me clean my face," Santana said thinking of her childhood, picturing the torn dirty overalls and the even dirtier face she'd always seen in the mirror, more often than not streaked with grime and tears, "I remember how shocked Abuela was when I came home that day."

She was surprised to see a soft hint of a smile light up Brittany's features, though she seemed too tired to lift her head up from Santana's shoulder. With effort, Brittany drew Santana's wrist up to her mouth and kissed where the IV had been, looking so relieved as if Santana had finally seen something she had wanted her to see for a long time.

Santana exhaled in relief, she had almost thought she had broken her. For a time it had seemed like the light had completely gone from Brittany's eyes. She never wanted to see that happen again.  
"You always can't wait to share the happy times with me and make them last. I know I haven't been a great person to be around very much, but you've never made me feel like that, you know? You keep trying anyway, and you keep giving even when I don't deserve it, even though I haven't always been there for you when you needed me. That means everything to me," she told her.

Brittany began coughing, and Santana broke away from her, looking her over worriedly. She then realized Brittany was moving her mouth, trying to form words and get her speech back. _It so isn't the time for that, _Santana thought. _Let's just get through tonight.  
_"Don't try to talk now, B, it's been a really long night," she said, wishing for the millionth time that things were easier for her. She didn't think it could be much fun to lose your ability to speak when you got really upset. Brittany kind of reminded her of Ariel right now, that mermaid from that Disney movie she loved so much. Tonight it was like she'd been a fish out of water, dragged onto the sand, dragged into things she couldn't cope with and it had been at the price of her voice. Santana hoped that there wouldn't be any other consequences. She prayed that tomorrow, after she's had some rest, Brittany would be okay again.

As Brittany's forehead wrinkled, her features contorting in pain, Santana's concern grew. "Does somewhere hurt, B?" she asked, running her hands up her arms. Brittany looked so pale and almost gaunt, like she hadn't been able to eat properly and get some sleep since the last time she'd seen her. She also seemed kind of wrinkled and more soft and delicate than Santana remembered. _Have you eaten anything, B, since Tina told you_? Santana wondered, silently asking the question. Even on a good day, she often forgot food was important.

Brittany didn't try to answer that. Everywhere hurt, but that wasn't what she wanted to say. She sighed, clutching hold of the fabric of Santana's top and gazing into her eyes. She wanted to speak. She wanted to say to her that she felt the same way, Santana was her family too, and that it didn't matter that she wasn't perfect, and had too much going on to be there all the time. She still tried so hard and had been there as much as she could have been.

She wanted to say how glad she was that Santana was still here. Santana was Brittany's whole world, the most important, influential person in her life. She needed her so much, too much. She wished it wasn't true, but when it came down to it, she didn't know how to survive without Santana. The thought of a life without Santana terrified her. It would be like having a hole in her heart and there being a hole in the world.

Most of all, she wanted to tell her she was sorry. She'd promised Santana that she would never leave her, but last Friday she had. She'd let Santana walk away, and the worst thing possible had almost happened. _You said its not my fault, and maybe I didn't cause it, but I didn't follow you and help you. I didn't fix you. I'm sorry, Santana_, she thought unhappily, trying to convey all her emotion in her eyes, looking at Santana imploringly, repeating the words over and over in her mind, trying to make Santana understand.

Santana read her loud and clear. "I understand," she said quietly, telling her that she was heard, "but you never had to fix me and make it so I never did this in the first place, all I needed was for you not to give up on me so I could realize I needed to stay. You never gave up on me, Britt. I told you to leave me alone, and I made a mistake. I never meant it. The moment I walked away, I regretted it, but I was the one who walked away, baby, and I didn't let you follow. It's not your fault. And now, I'm not going anywhere. I meant what I said. I'm not going to hurt myself anymore and I'm not going to let other people treat me like crap. I realize I was doing that before, and I was just letting anyone use me who showed me the slightest bit of attention. It never really helped me escape from my problems, it just created more of them, and what's the point of slowly destroying yourself if you've found you don't want to go the whole way? I promise, it's just going to be you and Puck now, okay?"  
_Puck does care_, Santana thought, he pretends not to, but when it comes down to it he does, and Santana wasn't prepared to lose that.

There would always be those talks and the looks that had begun her downward spiral last Friday, but Santana realized she would have to try and survive. Maybe she could hold a little hope that the people at their school could become less judgmental over time, and comments like the one Brittany had made could go by without it being a scandal worthy of a slushie facial. Santana looked at the girl in her arms. She had much to live for. She wanted to see Brittany grow up into the mature, wise person she had seen her start to become. And fuck their school. She wanted to see society grow up too.  
_She thinks it's possible_, she thought, kissing Brittany's forehead. And even if there's only the slimmest of chances, I don't want her to be the only one alive to see it.

For now, there was so much they could still have, even if the world wouldn't let them be everything they could be. "This feeling we have, it's everything. All that extra stuff, it's like the fudge on a sundae," Santana told her, trying to explain what she'd realized in more Brittany-friendly terms, "sex… kissing… all of it. It's just the extras. You can't have a sundae without ice cream, Britt. The way we feel about each other is what matters and maybe we can't tell them, and maybe they can take the extras away from us, at least for right now, but they can never take away what we are."

She paused, watching the goose bumps appear on Brittany's arms. She could read her like an open book.

"We go deeper than that," Santana muttered in her ear, "they're not stronger than us. I know that now." It seemed to fill one of the deepest holes in her heart.

Brittany signed 'family' to her, clutching their hands together like she had done a long time ago with Granny, mouthing the word at the same time.

"Family," Santana acknowledged her, and Brittany smiled at her, the light in her tired eyes finally returning to how it had been.

Santana smiled back. "You need to sleep now, Britt. You're here, I'm here, we're both still here," she said rocking Brittany back and forth, her voice taking on a lilting musical quality, willing the exhausted girl to sleep. It wasn't the best of her songwriting material, but if she could reassure Brittany that she wasn't going anywhere, then it would do. She knew that they would have to stay here tonight. She wasn't going to drag Brittany out anywhere in this condition. She'd explain some version of this to Finn's mom once Brittany had fallen asleep, and she'd get Mercedes to cover for them and talk to Brittany's mom.

"It's just you and me, and me and you and both of us together," Santana improvised, earning another a small smile, as Brittany's eyes closed, her face becoming open and peaceful as she turned in her arms so she could cuddle Santana back.

"We're family, we're family, just you and me, Santana and Brittany… always," Santana sung, raising one finger and bouncing it off Brittany's nose, unable to resist the action while she was only inches apart from her. She counted the freckles on Brittany's nose, they seemed both random and perfectly spaced apart all at once, like someone had known exactly what they were doing when they designed her_. You are so perfect to me,_ she thought, tenderly.

Brittany mouthed the word 'always' back, as she finally fell asleep, her head resting snugly on Santana's chest. Being with Santana felt like being finally home, and there really was _no place like home._

* * *

**It was National Suicide Awareness Day this week. Everyone who wants to show their support writes LOVE on their wrist, but I like writing it on both sides and all over my hands every day of the whole week just so everyone really gets the message that I'm supporting "Santana" and everyone else who went through/who are going through the same thing. It's all about making people aware so they can help the people they love. **

**Here's my hand today. It looks funny bigger than actual size.**

******tinypic . com (slash) view. php?pic=2622l9z&s=6 **(replace the word (slash) with the symbol and delete the many spaces)

**I have long fingers like Heather Morris. No CSI unicorns, please. :P I'm pretty sure though, that the only person in the universe who'd know me by my hands is "Santana" because she always told me how much she liked them. Sometimes I don't write LOVE, I just write "Santana's" name. It's the same thing to me.**

**Three million things:**

**1. She treated me like I was the most precious thing in the whole world to her that night at the end. We talked about it again later, and she told me how she felt, so I felt confident that I could tell it mostly from her perspective. She was at her best, and I was at the very worst I have ever been to date. Seriously, if you all still like "Brittany" after all that then you are all very kind and tolerant people because that is as out-of-control bad as it gets, and the very worst side of me. It was so hard to write that, but I had to do it. I can't not show the worst of me, when I've already shown the worst of her. Don't worry though, "Brittany" does recover. ****I really did find out on my birthday, Santana completely forgot about it with everything that was going on, and that's understandable. **

**I admit that I didn't stop with the underwater routine for several months after this. Something would usually set me off, and I'd spiral into thoughts about her trying something again and I'd be running home after school and holding my head under water again. Asperger's has a fair amount of overlap with OCD, and this was one routine I couldn't break for quite some time. I won't be writing about that, I'll skip it all, but I guess you could say the whole thing traumatized me a fair bit. **

**It was the cutting going on under my nose without my actual knowledge that really got to me. Because I didn't know about it the whole time it went on, I was convinced I wouldn't know if she was still cutting and/or planning to overdose again. She never usually lied to me, but she could omit the truth when she thought she was protecting me, so I got confused. When I got too scared about it, I'd retreat out to the pool again. Mom eventually got it filled in because she'd had enough of watching me, and of me getting sick from doing it out in the cold at night. Santana never knew about it. That whole mind link thing obviously never happened, so she never saw all those saving-her fantasies and fears. I used actual Faith-from-Buffy quotes by the way, in case anyone got lost there. B****ut anyway, it was well and truly 'on my mind' for a long time. **

**Also, the flashing lights part is so embarrassing. I wish I could go to a movie without getting a headache, and it would be nice to make it through a dance party, period. Rave parties would be my worst nightmare. **

**2. You might notice that even with all the lovely things she said, Santana didn't manage to say 'I love you' that night, we're still not quite at that point yet. ****She meant what she said about not being as destructive anymore, the casual sex more or less stopped, the cutting stopped (though she slipped up once or twice), the drug habit stopped for a short while at least. It wasn't like she was suddenly treating herself with _all_ the respect she deserves, but she did make an effort and all progress adds up. **

**3. I agree with her by the way, I think if you don't have the deep friendship and unconditional love for each other (like a family) then the sex is just… sex. She was at the point where she was looking for a stable thing in her life as like her um… roots before branches, because she was trying to build herself back up. ****Sex is great, but if you ask me, the most beautiful sex blooms from a beautiful friendship. **

**4. Some of her 'friends' found out about Santana's overdose and the whole lot of them reacted like Rachel and Tina. They never spread it around outside the group, but they privately all laughed at her, and I still don't understand how or why. I really lost my faith in people for a while. I've seen people treat their friends even worse than they treat their enemies. I noticed on the show that Brittany seems to really hate Rachel. So I thought I might use those characters rather than just make up some names for that phone call, just so I can now direct some rage at Rachel to stick with canon, because it is not easy to get Brittany to hate someone, there are so few reasons why I think she would. Tina just came along for the ride because I needed her to drive the scene.**

**5. …And because they were so mean I invited Mercedes into this. The stuff she said is relevant, but she's actually not based on anyone real at all. I just imagined how we would react to each other. I put her there because I love Mercedes and I thought it might have been unnecessary extra pain for everyone to read the party scene without someone there for "Brittany" in the beginning/lights bit, because nobody actually was. So she's there representing the good in the world and this Unicorn Club, in the face of all that bullying in the chapter before and in this one. **

**Oh, and no Brittcedes is happening. I just see some people and I can't keep my hands off them. It's all colors and textures. I react the same way to art and have to touch it. When I forget what I'm doing, I touch everything and everyone that fascinates me, and it's no more sexual than you feeling the ridges of an interestingly textured art piece. **

**Here's how Philosorapter S. Pierce see's it. Everyone likes listening to music, but it's more fun to listen to music turned up than it is to leave it quiet, but it's no fun having it blasting out and hurting your ears. Imagine that normal people feel basic touch (like running your hands over someone's arm) like they do quiet music = usually mildly pleasurable. Autistic people seem to feel it at one of the higher levels. When I was a child touching people felt like screeching blasting music and it hurt. When I got older (about the time of this chapter) it began to feel just like awesome loud music = just really good.**

**I talk about this stuff^ because I think someone might find this who has an autistic friend or something and wants to understand them, so I mostly write all this stuff down to help with that. **

**6. I assume Santana was induced at least a week before her due date, and I'm also assuming that because she was classed as premature, they were off on her estimated due date anyway and she was born maybe 2 -3 weeks(?) early. Not too clear on that one. She was really sick when she tried to tell me that story and wasn't making as much sense as usual other than to imitate her mother saying "Get this thing out of me." **

**7. Last but not least, you met Granny and Abuela! We both thought it was odd that we were both left with our grandparents as toddlers. Another yin-yang parallel lives thing. All our family history with Uncle Marco/Uncle Albert etc is true. I felt free to give Brittany my early farm experiences because she mentioned her uncle had a goat on the show. Granny isn't alive anymore. She's the one I send balloons into heaven for now and she's the same Granny I tried to make better with hugs (like heartburn) but she died anyway, not long after the events of this chapter. I miss her very much. Abuela is still large as life and is still kicking as we speak. I know that Alma (Lopez) is Santana's paternal grandmother on the show, but the only grandparent my "Santana" ever knew was her mother's mother, and I am not creative enough to be able to switch it around. I think Granny was the main person who taught me what family was, so I could teach Santana, and I guess Santana sung 'Somewhere over the Rainbow' to me, because it was the only nice thing a family member had ever done for her. **

**Oh, and as for Katie, that was probably the nicest sisterly bonding moment we ever had, she's not usually up for it.**

**If you made it through all those comments, you are seriously awesome. :) The next chapter is most likely the end of Part 2, and Part 3 will probably be a bit shorter… I'm on the home stretch to the end now. **


	17. Highways And Byways

**Guestfrombefore - Of course I remember you! I got your first review while I was trying to finish writing Chapter 14, and it was just one of those days, like I'd write a line and then I'd burst into tears because sometimes reliving this stuff, even the little things that seem insignificant (or especially them) is so hard. I know I can't get too worked up or I will blank out like in the last chapter, but I really wanted to finish it, so it was like this weird day and night of writing, crying and meditating, and wondering why I do this to myself. Anyway, my point is, I got your first review in the middle of that, and it just reminded me of the big picture and exactly why I 'do this to myself' because doing this has allowed me to process everything with other people's support so I'm not alone. I also didn't know that it was possible for anyone but Santana and Kurt to actually like and understand me, and I had no idea before I started how much I needed to know that. I name everything and everyone so I was trying to name you, and so far I came up with brightside 'cause you made me see the bright side that day, but maybe I've got to keep thinking or you're happier just being called guest. :) Either way, I'm always glad to hear from you. **

**Miara848 – I just wanted to tell you that you're so adorable with your comments *hugs* and that Santana and Brittany totally start making a birthday pie instead of a birthday cake (like I was originally going to write) in honor of you in this chapter. :) **

**sadpanda15 – I think you're the first person apart from me that has ever used the word incredible to describe my Santana, and it makes me so, so happy. :) I feel like it helps the universe balance all the insults that have been thrown at her a little bit more, because even her friends called her 'bitch' or 'slut' or... much worse. They mostly just called me a 'retard.' Anyway, thanks so much for saying I could one day think of getting published, wow! **

**Okay, I wish I had time to reply to everyone, but I don't, and if I said everything I wanted to this page would stretch on forever, so I better just do some general comments. **

**-Katie- ****I wanted to give you all an update on Katie and I as we are now, because she generated a fair bit of interest and I don't think she'll fit into the end chapters where I bring everything up to date. She's in her senior year now at the same school I went to, and I am so proud of her. I have a lot of admiration for her steady practicality and I'm convinced that she could do anything she ever wanted to do, and in the same way, I think she has recently come to admire my mad professor creativity, it's just, we never have much to say to each other because we don't seem to speak the same language or like the same things. But, that doesn't mean we don't love each other.**

**Sometimes we have good moments. Recently during the production of Chapter 10, she came home ranting that her English teacher was 'the world's biggest douchebag' and she had actually failed her on her last short story, but had given her a chance to do it again. Usually she never fails anything, so it was strange and I was sad because I knew how she felt. She's the same teacher I was specifically talking about who failed me on my Othello/Cats short story and... everything else I ever wrote. Katie was upset and I'm not used to her being down on herself. She tried to start writing it, but couldn't. So, I offered to write it for her and see if I could get her an A since I'm kind-of-sort-of maybe a writer now. I worked so hard on that 1500 words, putting everything I had into it, and Katie said it was really amazing. She submitted the draft, and it was clear in the comments that Mrs D. didn't even understand the plot and it wasn't even that complex. So we 'dumbed it down' and in the end it looked so bad that if I posted anything like that here, you'd all ask me if I'd been smoking some of Puck's weed. Then, it got an A. She didn't feel bad anymore after that. We rolled our eyes and ate icecream and watched that show she likes with that Snooki girl.  
****She will graduate, and they will play 'The Scientist' by Coldplay during the end procession because they do that every year. And then after, I will make sure she goes wherever she wants to go, if I have to drag her there myself. I get that she's reluctant to leave me still, but it's time. I've saved some money up for her, it's not a lot, but when I give it to her she will have no excuse. I think I'll be so happy to see her go, because she deserves it, and I hope she will send me a million pictures of herself living her life to the fullest held back by nothing or no-one. I think I'll be so happy about that, that I won't even cry when I see her off, until she's gone. Then, I will cry a lot. **

**-Mercedes - ****She got some love too, which is great. I wish she was real, because being around an open, powerful woman like her who would have likely been quite motherly towards us, would have been so great for Santana and I, and may have actually changed this story(?). I'll try and find a place where her awesome presence won't actually rewrite the story but I don't know if I can sneak her in. :( **

**-Puck- ****He got a mention too I think, and I will just say that I would not consider anything a happy ending if it still had Puck or another guy still in it. **

**The 2nd episode of Season 4 provided me with much fodder that I could work in with this chapter, and even one or two parallels that I might use later on. It's been a long time since Glee has given me much useable material for this, so I am super happy. :)**

**I can't say the same for the 3rd episode though… ugh. **

**Also, incoming adult stuff, I was going to tone it down a bit… but then I didn't. o.O**

* * *

**Chapter 17 – Highways and Byways**

**Brittany S. Pierce, Present **

Legend has it, that a unicorn can only be tamed by a virgin.

The scholars say the word 'virgin' apparently means more than one thing. It's about purity and chastity, but it was never clear whether it was of the mind or body. Being everything good in this miserable, stinking world would probably about cover the requirements for being a 'virgin' of the mind.

Too fierce and swift to be captured by hunters, the beautiful and rare unicorn could only be lured by the gentle virgin as she sat alone under a tree in the forest.

Perhaps it was the virgin's self possession and independence that attracted the unicorn, but in any case, as soon as the unicorn lay her head into the virgin's lap, that symbolized the marriage and the taming between the two.

Leonardo Da Vinci wrote: "The unicorn, through its intemperance and not knowing how to control itself, for the love it bears to fair maidens forgets its ferocity and wildness; and laying aside all fear it will go up to a seated damsel and go to sleep in her lap."

Lewis Carroll had his own take on unicorns. When Alice met a unicorn in 'Alice through the looking glass' neither Alice nor the unicorn could believe their eyes, believing each other to be only legends.

_"Well, now that we have seen each other," said the Unicorn, "if you'll believe in me, I'll believe in you. Is that a bargain?"_

_"If you like," said Alice._

Those things are all I ever wanted for us. I wanted Santana and I to believe in each other, and I wanted her to stay away from the hunters, and to trust me enough to lay her head in my lap at the end of the day, so she could rest and not have to be so strong anymore.

* * *

**Brittany S. Pierce, age 17**

"No, Britt, I want the big sister," Santana said, then shook her head when she saw which measuring cup Brittany's hand moved too. "Um, okay, maybe the grandma then?"

Brittany moved to the shortest one and nudged it towards her.

"What? How is the grandma the shortest? What about the little sister… or what about the tiny baby cup, wouldn't they be shorter?"

"There aren't babies in this set, and little sisters are tall," Brittany announced, moving the large 'little sister' measuring cup towards her.

Santana grabbed it as she passed it to her, relieved. That had been the one she was after and they could be here all night before she ever figured out Brittany's height ordering system that she used to name the cookware.

It was 12am, and about fifteen minutes ago she had realized with a sickening thump in her heart that Brittany's birthday had gone by and she had completely forgotten.

They'd spent the evening watching Buffy together. Brittany had fallen asleep in her lap so it was only Santana watching the title character turn nineteen in the episode. Seeing Brittany was dead to the world, she had switched the episode off just before that British guy got his Fyarl demon on. As soon as the screen went black she had realized that Brittany's birthday also had to be coming soon. Then, with a start, she'd realized what day it really was. For that matter, she'd realized what _month_ it was. Brittany had never said a word to her about missing her birthday. _Time never really stops, no matter what_, Santana thought_. Everything just goes on without me._

Feeling as guilty as she ever had, she had shaken Brittany awake and told her that she was going to make her a cake right now, and Brittany could help if she wanted to, or she could stay asleep, she didn't mind. Brittany had raved incoherently about apples for a few minutes, and Santana amended her choice to a birthday apple pie instead, tickling her until she got a better response. The sleep finally clearing from her eyes, Brittany had then understood that this meant she got to cook with Santana, and had jumped to her feet, instantly full of energy.

So far, neither of them had any idea as to what they were doing.

"Here's the babies," Brittany said grabbing a measuring spoon, "did you need them?"

"Wow, Britt, how does your little family keep up with feeding all these babies?" Santana asked, looking at the array of measuring spoons, and humoring her.

"Well, they all work in the food industry, maybe they steal a little on the side," Brittany deadpanned.

Santana couldn't for the life of her figure out if she was serious. She got back to measuring out flour and sugar while she watched Brittany sit and play with her family of cups. "We'll measure everything out first, then we'll put it all together all in one hit," she said, "I think that's how my Abuela did it."

"Abuela can hold the egg," Brittany informed her solemnly, pushing the 'Abuela cup' towards her.

"Are there any boys in your family, Britts?" Santana asked, noticing that Brittany kept clutching the tallest one. She wondered if it could be the father.

"Hmm," Brittany hummed, then brandished the egg beater like a weapon, "here's one."

"Oh my god! Put that down, you'll hurt yourself," Santana said nervously. Brittany could never be trusted with stuff like that. She hadn't allowed her near her hair straightener ever since she'd tried to give it a bath, and she hadn't allowed her near her gardener's shears ever since she'd tried to imitate Edward Scissorhands, and had tried to turn their shrub on their front lawn into Channing Tatum. Santana had to admit the likeness wasn't bad. She'd have done a request for Sarah Michelle Gellar if Brittany hadn't almost chopped her own arm off.

Brittany sighed. Santana never let her near any sharp stuff, electrical appliances or shrubs and she couldn't imagine why. Maybe she didn't want to share her toys because she was an only child. Brittany imagined that the shrub in particular was laughing at her, she bet it didn't want to share Santana around either, and was totally keeping a tally of how much extra time Santana spent with it when Brittany wasn't around.

"We don't need any boys then, Britt," Santana said putting the beater away.

Brittany grabbed the tallest cup she'd been holding before, and made it join handles with a smaller one that was from a different set, made with darker plastic.

"So, is that you and me?" Santana asked, smirking.

"How did you know?" Brittany asked, her eyes going wide.

Santana shrugged. "Lucky guess."

Brittany hummed to the cup with the darker plastic, and then eventually added her own lyrics to the tune.

**You realize you're the perfect size, **

**Wanna put all that I got in you,**

**'cause baby, we gon' make pies (and mark them with 'B')**

**.**

**I'll have my own Master Chef show **

**And when you see my apron you'll stare**

**'cause on 'Cooking a la Brittany'**

**There's nothing under there (under there)**

**.**

**Gonna pull out a plum, with my finger or my thumb, **

**Don't want no sour flour, or no salt on my tongue,**

**When we're makin' love, baby, it's my recipe,**

**And when I give you sugar, then you're sweet to me.**

**.**

**My cup, my cup! **

**Sayin' what's up to my cup, my cup…**

Santana dumped the entire cup of sugar she had just poured out over Brittany's head, giggling. Brittany was the queen of silly songs, but Santana had never thought she'd get serenaded _this_ way. She'd been re-imagined as a sour patch kid, a raisin and a teapot in the past, the latter during Brittany's Beauty and the Beast phase, but until now, never as a measuring cup. _If she has to see me in inanimate objects, why can't I be like a pair of shoes or something to her or something cool? Maybe as like a pair of boots or something, because I have a pair of those that totally have personality,_ she thought.

Brittany shook herself off, smiling at her, sugar going everywhere as she flicked her hair around. "I can't get this song quite right," Brittany said, "maybe I'm working with the wrong kind of cup. Maybe I should use like… a jug or something."  
She pulled at her clothes as she dusted off some more sugar. She had thought really hard about what she was going to wear to Santana's place, but they had ended up in pajamas so quickly that she kind of felt silly about it now.

"My jugs, my jugs?" Santana questioned, raising an eyebrow and watching to see if Brittany would get it, "that totally sounds more like a song about my boobs."

Brittany shrieked with laughter. "Oh, I can write a song about your boobs, watch me! I'll call it The Cupcake Song."

"Oh no you won't!" Santana said, charging at her from the other side of the countertop. She was self conscious about the size of her boobs, and she always had been. She didn't want them brought into the spotlight and added to Brittany's top fifty album hits.

Brittany saw her coming, and thought she looked more like a rhino than a unicorn in that moment, but it was only an illusion.

Santana hadn't even made impact, when in her excitement, Brittany lost balance of her own accord and stumbled forwards.

Not colliding with her at the point she thought she would have, Santana's momentum was thrown, and she knocked both of them over, until they lay sprawling on the kitchen floor, Santana lying half on top of Brittany.

"Are you alright, Britt?" Santana asked anxiously, immediately needing to check she hadn't crushed her to bits. She wasn't usually such a klutz. Usually she could steady both herself _and_ Brittany in situations like this.

Brittany nodded. Even more so than she had before, Santana treated her like she was so fragile, especially after that night at Finn's house. It was sweet of her, but she didn't like Santana getting worried for her all the time.

"Don't get up," she said softly, feeling Santana scramble to get off her.

"Yeah?" Santana asked almost shyly, lying her head back down on Brittany's chest.

"Yeah," Brittany confirmed, a bit surprised that she stayed. She wrapped her arms around Santana and shut her eyes. There were songs playing in her head, not about cupcakes, but about other things.

Santana licked some of the sugar off her arm and Brittany giggled. She was totally going to get all sticky, if she wasn't already.

Santana kept going, snaking her tongue over Brittany's neck and then getting some off her nose.

"When I give you sugar, then you're sweet to me," Brittany murmured.

A tiny giggle burst from Santana's throat. "Not as sweet as you," she told her, embarrassed that she'd really just said that.

Brittany's mind worked overtime. She loved it when Santana touched her. It felt so different to when other people touched her. It was like Santana was a butterfly, and when she touched her, she became a butterfly too and they fluttered their wings at each other and that created this feeling.

She remembered their moment in the pool, before everything had gone wrong, and wondered if they could go back to that, right back to that almost perfect moment that had gone so wrong, where they had been underwater, and Santana had wanted to be touched, and had guided Brittany's fingers inside her bikini bottom. She remembered the hunger in her eyes, as if those kinds of flutters meant more to her than anything in the world.

Her thoughts interrupted, she felt Santana begin biting her, nipping her gently with her teeth in all the places she had licked. Brittany felt her body shudder at the sensation.

"Santana?"

"Yeah, Britt?" Santana said, leaning over her and making the tiniest bites at her earlobe. It was super sugary there. She was going to get cavities.

_I love you_. "Um, do I taste nice?" Brittany said.

"The best," Santana assured her, "and better than our lack of birthday pie at this rate." She moved her head sideways and ran her tongue over Brittany's bottom lip before taking it between her teeth and pulling it into her mouth.

"Mhhhf nna nnnneeeonne," Brittany told her, her speech unintelligible around Santana's mouth.

Santana released her. "Is that your own secret language, Britt?" she asked smirking.

_If I had a secret language, I'd say I love you_, Brittany thought.  
"I said, I don't need a pie or cake or anything, Santana. It is okay that you forgot. There was… stuff," Brittany said vaguely, not wanting to ruin the moment with the mention of what happened, but still wanting to let Santana know it was okay. She never wanted Santana to feel guilty about being so sad that she forgot things.  
She leaned up and pressed her nose into Santana's, and was rewarded when Santana's tongue came all the way into her mouth. Santana tasted a bit like she had just eaten an entire candyfloss machine, and Brittany loved it.

"Gonna go into a sugar coma," Santana whispered to her, pausing for breath.

"That sounds so awesome," Brittany said, imagining a magical place in her mind that they might go to, where gummy bears were the evil dictators oppressing everyone to float on candy clouds and be happy forever. She'd like to go there with Santana, and she knew just how she could get there.

She wasn't too sure exactly how this worked, but Santana got the message when she saw her hand creeping down lower against her shorts, finding its way into Santana's pocket.

Without a word they got up, and Santana switched off the lights so they were in complete darkness, their entire surroundings pitch black. Brittany felt scared at first, because she knew how high Santana's ceilings were; every time she stepped into a room she always wondered if she was going to lose gravity and float all the way up to the ceiling, and now the lights were switched off, she wondered if she already had.

Brittany felt disoriented and lost until Santana's fingers brushed hers and locked around her wrist. _It has to be dark,_ Brittany thought. _She never wants to see me when we do this. _

"Chair, step, step, door," Santana said to her softly, whispering to her as she guided her back to the kitchen. Brittany thought it was so amazing that Santana could see in the dark. She was like a cat.

When they reached the counter, Santana patted it. "Sit up here, Britt," she said.

Brittany didn't know why she wanted her up there, but feeling Santana's hands circle her waist, she obliged her and jumped up, drawing her legs apart so she could squeeze Santana in between her knees.

Santana's hands had never left Brittany's waist and she rubbed them up and down against Brittany's sides, her fingers occasionally getting caught in the fabric of Brittany's pajama top. She moved down lower to Brittany's thighs.

"Do you want to take these off Britt?" she said pulling at the shorts with the little cartoon ducks on them.

"Yeah," Brittany said, nodding. She lifted herself up on her hands, while Santana pulled them off. Now she had better access, Santana started massaging Brittany's thighs, working her way upwards, noting how Brittany trembled the closer she got to her center.

"It feels like I have to pee, only I don't," Brittany said confused by the sensation. If she hadn't floated up to the ceiling before, she was sure she had now. It was like her body had this urge, or this call for some kind of release. The closest she could describe it, was like that moment when you really had to sneeze, or if you really had to pee. It was all Kiki's fault.

Santana rubbed small circles as close as she dared, then lay a hand on Brittany's underwear as if in defeat. "I don't want to ruin you," she said. Brittany was too pure to be touched by her. Santana's own first time had made her feel dirty, and like she had lost a part of herself. She could never do that to Brittany. She also wasn't sure if Brittany could really handle going further, and she didn't want to upset her.

"I like this," Brittany said simply.

"You like watching me pour my cereal," Santana muttered, keeping her hand on Brittany's crotch, wondering where her sweet spot would be. She didn't seem that wet, but new things always overwhelmed and confused her, so this didn't really surprise her very much.

"Yes, I like that too," Brittany agreed.

"Are you like, attracted to me," she said barely audibly, kind of hoping Brittany would hear her, and not at the same time.

Brittany placed her hand over Santana's, and manipulated her fingers to start drawing patterns again. "Yes," she said, leaning her forehead down into Santana's. "Kiki is very attracted to you, and so am I," she said honestly.

Santana smirked. She remembered when Brittany had named her vagina. It was some time after Cheer Camp when they were fourteen. Brittany had said that that after her alien experience, she was convinced that part of her had a mind of its own, and therefore that part needed a name. Apparently Kiki was also a descendant of royalty and spoke in a British accent. She referred to her ever so often, telling her what Kiki was thinking, and sometimes complaining that Kiki couldn't watch movies with them because she couldn't see through all those layers of clothes. Santana didn't think much of it. For all she knew Brittany probably really pitied her vagina and its lack of getting a say in everything.

_On the other hand, it's really hard to know with Brittany_, she thought frowning._ It's hard to figure out what she's really thinking when she keeps talking about just wanting to smell my armpits and stuff. Maybe it was pheromones, or the fact that I keep wearing that Hello Kitty deodorant she bought me, but I don't know if that actually counts as attraction. _

"How would you know if you're attracted to me," she asked finally, an edge of defensiveness creeping into her voice.

Brittany thought hard about it. She had heard that being sexually attracted to someone, meant that you looked at them, and then you _had_ to want to take all their clothes off. It was all about intent, and like, your body took over your head and forced a new action thought bubble over it, like in those Sims games that she never played anymore because last time she turned it on, her Santana-Sim had got bit by a vampire and the Brittany-Sim had just stood there, and she wasn't over that yet.

Brittany didn't understand why that one thought was so important, and why when other people felt like that, their _other_ thoughts always fell away and left them with just that one thing. Right now, her body said that it liked Santana touching her, but her mind was much more open.

Sexual attraction seemed so important to everyone at school. Other people's attraction had ruled Santana's own life, and she had felt like she had to give in to other people's intentions, because if she didn't, they would label her as 'frigid' or 'a loser.'

It was like all those guys at school looked at Santana, and then only one highway opened up in their minds, and that always led to sex.

_Why does that highway, always have to be one-way?_ Brittany wondered. Didn't that mean there was only one choice. What if it wasn't the right choice, especially for the other person that you were driving across that highway?

Why were some people always dragged along that road when they didn't even want to go, they were just there because the other person needed to get there? Didn't that mean you were looking at them as a prop instead of as a person, like what you wanted was more important than they wanted, like their feelings didn't even matter so long as you reached your own destination?

In Brittany's mind, there were a million highways she could take when she looked at Santana. Maybe, her body urged her to go in certain directions, but her heart was her only compass.

What she felt for Santana right now wasn't all about sex, it was about Santana and being close to her. If the best way to be close to her was for them to have sex, then that was what she wanted. If the best way to be close to her was to listen to her talk then that was what she wanted instead. There were a million highways she and Santana could take together, and she loved every single one, so she'd let Santana draw the map, because all the highways still led to her.

_There's nothing better than just loving her, no matter what she's doing, be it eating jello or reading to me or even having her hand where it is right now, _Brittany thought. _Just so long as we're together_. _Sometimes those little winding roads to the side that other people ignore can lead to the most beautiful of unexplored places. Sometimes you had to forget the main highways and take the byways, because it is the little things that nobody knows about people that can really help you set them apart in your mind, and in your heart._

"I just want you," Brittany told her, sincerely, unable to communicate her thoughts to words any better than that.

Santana sighed._ Brittany's so much better than she used to be, but she's still pretty vague all the time,_ she thought, resting her forehead back against hers, glad when Brittany automatically moved into a position where she didn't have to stand on her toes to reach her. Being kind of vague was hardly her fault, and Santana knew that she was just as vague back, if not worse, especially when she gave Brittany mixed messages. These days, it seemed like they always ended up 'accidentally' touching each other. Santana was so confused. Part of her wanted so desperately for this to be real so that she and Brittany could grow into something great, but the rest wished that this was just a phase that she'd grow out of because that would make everything so much easier.

Feeling Santana's discontent, Brittany wriggled away from her. She didn't want Santana to stop touching her, but she knew that right now, Santana needed her more. It felt more right to be the one to make Santana feel like this, and show her how. They had to take the road that Santana needed.  
_I'll take you back to where we were, and this time, I won't need to come up for air because we're on land_. _You be the mermaid, and I'll be your prince_, she thought.

She slipped down from the counter and hesitantly picked Santana up, holding her flush against her for a moment before setting her down on the counter, feeling about to get her bearings in the dark.  
"I'll show you?" she told her, as if seeking confirmation.

Santana nodded, breathing raggedly as if some emotion was tearing through her. She hadn't expected the sudden turn of events. Brittany was so unpredictable, she had no idea what went through her head sometimes. Santana felt like she was falling very suddenly down a rabbit hole, no clue where she was going, and even less control over where she landed. Feeling as if some unseen force was controlling her, she slipped off her own shorts, and then after a beat her underwear, catching Brittany's hand as she did and running her fingers over the elastic before they dropped to her ankles, so she would know what she was doing. Brittany couldn't see her in the dark, but she could feel her.

"You can touch me," Santana said, guiding Brittany's hand to her center.  
"Use your finger." She angled herself forward so she was barely on the edge of the counter, her knees locked around Brittany who was partly holding her up and supporting her weight.

Brittany hesitated, then ever so slowly she slid her finger closer, just barely breaking through. Santana shivered, and gripped her shoulder with one hand and guided her hand in further with the other. Brittany thought it seemed wrong to be touching Santana like this without kissing her, so she tilted her head and pressed her mouth to Santana's, her fingers rocking further inside all on their own with the movement. Santana gasped, and she moved her head forwards and backwards making Brittany move with her, her hand in motion following suite. It reminded Brittany of waves on the beach, rolling over each other, and coming and going with the tide, some waves coming on stronger than others and others weaker when she lost her rhythm or the build up of momentum decreased. Brittany had been given a ride on a surfboard once, and riding Santana's undertow now was kind of the same as riding the current of the waves, except that time it had been under her feet, not her hand.

Santana felt the tension inside of her come so tight she thought she would snap, but something else inside her was stronger. She crossed her arms over her chest and gave a small whine, tears coming to her eyes, blurring her vision.

"San?" Brittany questioned, breathlessly, stilling her movements.

"Don't stop," Santana said, rocking into her, her posture hunching over.

There was a small sliver of light coming in from the next room, and when Santana moved into it, Brittany could see her face, contorted with pain and intense concentration.

"You're not 'dancing' with me, are you? Is it because I'm hurting you?" Brittany asked worriedly, her voice trembling on the word 'hurting.'

"No, no, do it faster, deeper," Santana said wrapping her arms around herself tighter, the tears coming faster.

It felt like she was stuck in the middle, in the space between lost and found which wasn't much of a place at all.  
Brittany wasn't hurting her. She was giving her that look she always gave her, like she was her whole world, and that stopped her from losing herself like she always did during sex. It stopped her from slipping into the darkest crevice of her mind where she was present, but not really there.  
Yet, something held her back. She wasn't lost, but she still couldn't feel what she wanted to feel. She felt stuck and numb in the place in between. So where was here?  
_Why can't I feel_? she thought desperate to bring about that perfect moment.

Brittany obeyed her, thrusting her finger in further and then pulling it back, but not all the way out. She found when she touched a certain spot, Santana breathed in deep, and shook like a leaf in the breeze, but then the tears came faster. _Did everyone cry when they had sex. Was that how it all worked? _she wondered.

Santana was only getting more and more worked up. Her sobs were audible now, and constant as if they were being forced out of her by every movement of Brittany's hand. She was trembling so much that she was making Brittany shake too. Brittany knew this was fast turning into one of Santana's earthquakes, though she couldn't figure out what had been the trigger.  
She hesitated.

"Don't stop, Britt," Santana kept begging her, "keep going, please keep going." She was almost hysterical now. She never thought it would be like this with Brittany.  
Every time she had been touched like this before, there were always the few moments where her body screamed at her to make them stop, before she could completely shut down into a pleasant escape. She couldn't figure out what was happening to her now. It was like she was so used to touch feeling bad, or not meaning anything, that she couldn't change it now when it mattered so much.

Brittany felt her own tears come into her eyes. This didn't feel right. Something was wrong with Santana and she was making it worse, so why did Santana want her to keep going?

"I'm going to stop and hug you now, honey," Brittany told her, unable to see her like this for any longer. This was so intense. Brittany felt like a million dwarves had anvils, and were pounding them all into her head, trying to make her lose it. She tried to force the panic away. She had to be strong for Santana.

"No!" Santana forced out, trying to stop Brittany from moving her hand, "I can do this!"

Brittany gently pried her away, the action being met with a hysterical wave of tears.

The moment they broke contact, it was like the world stopped moving, just for a second. Santana's tears abated, then stopped so suddenly that it shocked Brittany, stealing the breath from her lungs. There was a dead silence.

"I've got to go, I've got to leave," Santana said without moving, looking to Brittany confused, as if she could show her how to leave the room and get out of the house.

_Where does she want to go?_ Brittany thought.  
"It's past midnight San," she said gently, and this is your house.

"That's never stopped me before," Santana said quietly, "I don't stay, after. I never stay. My thoughts might catch up with me if I stay."

Brittany felt cold and sick inside. She'd obviously done something very wrong. Brittany felt like she had to be just as bad as the guys at school.

"I'm not letting you leave. But I'll go if you really want me to," she said twisting her hands together.

_What sets me apart from the guys at school?_ she wondered. _Is there anything if I still make her feel like that?_

Santana hid her face in her hands, turning away from Brittany, a curtain of her hair separating them. She bit her lip and exhaled softly trying to get her breathing under control. She was so embarrassed. Brittany probably thought she was such a loser after freaking out like that on her. She wanted to hide herself away forever.

When Santana didn't tell her what to do, Brittany felt confused. Santana always told her what to do. "Do you really want me to go?" she asked her. She felt at a complete loss, having no idea what to do next. She had just made Santana cry when she'd touched her, and now maybe she wasn't responding to her because she was angry about it. Maybe she really didn't want to see her right now, and she was supposed to go.

Santana shrugged her shoulders slightly. She'd leave the decision up to Brittany. She couldn't remember the last time she'd done that. Brittany never knew if she was coming or going or what she wanted to do, and had always needed guidance. She couldn't give her that now. She couldn't give her anything, because right now she had nothing left to give.

Taking a few steps back and crossing the room, Brittany tentatively placed her hands on the doorknob as if she might go, then ran back to Santana, pulling Santana's face towards hers and brushing the pads of her fingers across her cheek to wipe away a stray tear. _My heart is my only compass._

"I'll sleep on the floor tonight, San, if you want. But I won't leave you alone," she told her, making up her own mind, "I'll just sit near you, so you know I'm here."

When Santana didn't react, she placed her palms face down on Santana's thighs, intending to pull her off the counter and get her to bed.

Harsh sobs suddenly tore through Santana. She had been so afraid Brittany might leave, which had made her realize that that wasn't at all what she wanted. She didn't want to be alone tonight. There was no escaping what she felt this time. She couldn't go and sleep with someone who would hurt her enough to blank this all out. She couldn't go upstairs into the bathroom and hurt herself, opening an old scar. Those things were in the past now.

She wanted to be better than that, it was just she didn't know how. _How do you stop feeling like this without hurting yourself,_ she wondered.

As if she knew what was on her mind because it was perhaps on hers too, Brittany rubbed her fingers over one of Santana's old scars and bent down and kissed it. It was the most intimate of gestures. _This is the closest I've ever allowed anyone_, Santana realized, as Brittany's lips lingered on her upper thigh, feeling for scars and kissing them as she found them. She felt all the pain and poison leak out with Brittany's kisses. She placed her hands on Brittany's head, running her fingers through her hair, and for a moment Brittany's head rested in her lap.

Realizing she wasn't going to fight her now, Brittany straightened up, intent on moving her. "Jump, San," she joked, holding her arms out. Santana shuffled forward, her knees resting on Brittany's hips.

Brittany lifted Santana the rest of the way off the counter, locking her arms around her in a bear hug, and carrying her across the room, navigating as best she could to find the couch. She paused, then lowered them both into it. Santana's still naked body faced into hers, her knees only lightly grazing the couch.

"Talk to me?" she asked, rubbing her fingers down the soft hair on Santana's neck. She was so tense. She felt her pulse. It beat steadily into her hand. It always comforted her to do that, just to feel the proof that Santana was still here.

"I couldn't… I couldn't, I'm so ashamed," Santana stammered, biting on her bottom lip as if to hold back another sob from escaping.

"I know, and it's okay, it's not your fault, San," Brittany reassured her, embracing her and squeezing her tightly.

"I went nowhere. But I didn't want to go nowhere," Santana babbled as if a dam had burst inside her.  
"I wanted to like it with you. But everything still held me back. I couldn't even be good at this with you Britt," she cried. "I always thought that if I ever did it with you, I'd be so much better, because anything with you could only be a good thing. But I don't know how to feel good things. I don't know why I'm being like this. If I really can't even do this with you, then I really must be broken. And now you'll hate this too and never want to do it again, especially not with me," she rushed out, all in one breath, her chin quivering.

It was then that Brittany finally understood what was really happening. It wasn't that Brittany had been bad or done the wrong thing, it was that Santana had been used and forced to take so many highways in the wrong direction, that she had broken down some time ago. She had been broken that day in the pool as well, and it would never have gone well, even if Brittany hadn't needed to breathe. Santana was running on empty now, unable to shake everything off. Someone had to take her back, right back to the start and help her begin again.

"Are you like a carousel horse, San?" she asked.

"Hmm?" Santana asked her, fat tears still rolling down her cheeks.

"I feel sad about carousel horses. They're stuck. They've got to go round and round all day when someone tells them too, and let just anybody ride them until their paint chips. They go to all these towns and cities and see beautiful things, but they never get to go anywhere, except round and round, same direction every time. They must be so tired. I tried to save one once, it was the only unicorn standing there with all the other horses. I tried to pull her off, but the ticket seller guy yelled at me."  
Brittany frowned. "Are you like that unicorn? Are you stuck going round and round, but frozen in one position, and is that why you can't be happy?"

Santana blinked, her heart thudding against her chest. She had never felt so understood in all her life. "Yes," she uttered in a tight, cramped whisper.

_You're like a merry go round horse stuck in the middle of a highway, _Brittany thought.

"It's going to be okay, San," Brittany promised her, combing her fingers through her hair. _Sometimes, people just really need to hear that,_ she thought.

"It is?" Santana asked, snuggling into her, in that moment placing everything she had into those words of reassurance. She was used to always being the one to protect her, which made these moments where Brittany treated her like this so rare and special. Brittany was holding her so close now, making long soft strokes down her back as if she wasn't completely disgusted with how she had reacted, and that too reassured her of so much.

"Yeah, I know it is. We'll do this right," Brittany said trying to find the right words. "I'll help you. I'll find out how to pull you off the carousel so you can begin again, and go back to the start," she told her, feeling Santana's hot tears soak through her shirt. _In Disney movies, it was always a kiss that could bring people back to life_, she thought. It was a kiss when Snow White was poisoned, when Sleeping Beauty couldn't wake up on her own, and it was a kiss to bring back Ariel's voice when she lost it. Maybe if she kissed Santana enough times then she would start to be able to feel good again when she was touched.

Each kiss could be like a baby step towards doing that thing with her finger again, and practice makes perfect right?

"Promise?" Santana asked her, sniffling.

"Yes," Brittany found her pinky and hooked it together with hers, letting their joined hands rest on her chest beside Santana's head. You could never break a pinky promise, ever. It was like an oath or a vow, except way stronger.

For a moment there was only silence, interrupted by the softest of contented sighs, as Santana adjusted her position on Brittany's collarbone.

"I've got to see a therapist tomorrow," Santana said suddenly, "it was Mom's idea, she booked me in with some old guy."

"Maybe you can talk about this with him too?" Brittany suggested to her.

Santana shook her head, a lock of hair tickling Brittany's neck. "You're the only one I can talk to," she told her.

Brittany nodded, pulling her closer. That was why this was all up to her. She would start right now. She kissed her forehead as if to swear to her that she was hers to protect now. "I'll take you back to the start," she whispered in Santana's ear, "you'll see."

* * *

"No, Mrs Davidson," Brittany said patiently, "Bastet has been worshipped by Egyptians since the _second_ dynasty."

"Why, yes," Mrs Davidson said surprised, "you're correct Brittany, my mistake."

Several heads were turning around to stare at Brittany now. She had been answering questions about Bastet the Egyptian cat goddess for their entire history lesson, and she'd actually been getting them all right, upstaging even the teacher. Brittany knew everyone thought she was stupid. They had always thought she was the stupidest girl in the school, and had made up more village idiot jokes around her than she could count. It was hard to not believe that they were right. Last week everyone had laughed at her because she had thought the word peninsula meant getting insurance that you bought a boy baby, not a girl one from those orphanages in Africa. It was the little moment like that, that always weighed on her.

But, when it came to her favorite topics, she knew just how much knowledge she had to contribute. If their class featured anything to do with cats, unicorns, Disney or Santana, Brittany was confident she could recite thousands of facts on those subjects, as if her brain was a sponge for those topics alone. And better yet, when any of those subjects finally came up in conversation, she always made the most of it. She liked ancient Egypt a lot, because it was kind of like the internet. Everyone wrote on walls and worshiped cats.

Brittany wanted to graduate next year so bad. And the teachers totally held that key, so she was really trying to get in good with them. She had to figure out how to present her assignments in ways the teachers liked, and it seemed easier said than done.

She couldn't write a ten thousand word essay on how Bastet was similar to Lord Tubbington, she had to write something shorter and boring and standard, and not only that, she had to write it in a boring black pens even though she preferred a world of color. It was also pointless to draw pictures of what she saw in her mind for the teacher, because she never looked at her pictures or graded them. Brittany was a visual person, but apparently it was all about getting the words and facts right, and explaining them in a way the teacher could understand, and not in her own language, rather than showing it with art.

_When my mom said 'a picture tells a story of one thousand words' she was so lying,_ Brittany thought. _Nobody here will accept a picture in place of a one thousand word essay. _

Brittany was trying extra hard lately, because she knew that it was all up to her. Santana couldn't help her with all her essays anymore, there just wasn't time. _Right now, Santana is having trouble writing her own essays_, she thought, looking over at her friend who appeared to be in a daze. _Scratch that, she looks like she's having trouble even writing her name_, Brittany thought worriedly.

"Santana?" the teacher asked, intent on proving she wasn't listening, "what animal did Bastet have the head of?"

"Um…," Santana seemed to wander off for a moment and then come back. She saw the teacher looking at her.

"Was it green?" she asked seriously.

Mrs Davidson sighed. "Pay attention Santana."

"I'm t-trying," Santana whispered.

Brittany squeezed her hand under their desks. Santana's therapist had put her on meds within ten minutes of seeing her, and she seemed to be having a bad reaction to them. Brittany hoped that she would be allowed off them soon because they didn't seem to be doing her any good at all. It mostly just made her absent minded. Santana would lose track of conversations and just stop talking and walk off and do something else, forgetting the whole conversation, even that they took place at all. She spaced out all the time in class, looking the other way, seeming surprised when she realized where she was. She didn't remember if she had eaten or showered. She was getting mixed up as well, confusing similar words and names and she was having trouble stringing sentences together. She forgot all the lyrics they were learning in Glee club, and she completely forgot her previously memorized timetable, and had been seen poring over it like it was brand new.

In other words, she was turning into Brittany herself, or at least who she used to be.

Brittany swore she wasn't that person anymore, although she knew that was at least part way a lie. What was true, was that she couldn't _afford_ to be that person anymore, not if she wanted to keep Santana safe.

Brittany had promised to protect her, so she had to at least try and do everything Santana used to do for them both. But, that was easier said than done.

* * *

"Where do we go now, San?" Brittany asked frowning. They were walking side by side together after school, wandering aimlessly. Brittany wasn't sure if they had cheer practice or not, and it had taken them almost an hour to even leave the school. Santana couldn't figure out how to open her locker and had only got it open because Brittany knew her locker combination better than she knew her own. However, she had no idea which books Santana needed tonight so they had spent too long trying to figure it out, before giving homework up as a lost cause.

"Huh?" Santana asked.

"Do we have cheer practice? No, wait, that was yesterday. What happens now?"

"Um," Santana said as they walked by the park, "oh, look at the ducks, Britt, they're your favorite!" She swung their hands together, a little skip in her step, not caring who saw them.

Brittany smiled at her. This was a younger and more childlike version of Santana that she hadn't seen in many years. It warmed her heart to see her this way. It marked the return of her bold, but more lighthearted younger self that stood up for them both and didn't take crap from anyone. She would follow that girl into a pit of fire.

Santana went and sat down on the park bench, her eyes unfocused again.

"Brittany? Are we going to school now?" Santana asked.

Brittany screwed up her nose. "No. I'm pretty sure we've just been there," she joked, "I doubt I was imagining the smell of mystery meat all day. It lingered on, 'til way after lunch."

"Oh," Santana said, "yeah, I remember now."

"Yeah, you threatened to stab someone in the cafeteria if they didn't give you their home brought lunch. You didn't want to share mine," Brittany pouted.

"Yeah, because you need yours, Brittsticks. You're too skinny," Santana laughed.

Brittany did an impromptu dance in the middle of the ducks, trying out something she'd seen in Happy Feet, because ducks waddled just as much as penguins did, so maybe they could tap dance too if they tried. Santana watched her for a while giggling. Brittany relaxed. Santana really did seem okay for now. She kept dancing, keeping an eye on Santana.

There was a free magic show going on to their right, with a lot of local kids scattered around the magician. He'd been doing the same show for years now.

The first time he'd advertised, Brittany and Santana had been eleven, and they had both been so excited to see him. Brittany had always loved magic, and back then, Santana had loved it too.

"_Santana look!" eleven year old Brittany said, pointing at the top hat the magician had brought out. The entire show so far had revolved around a missing duckling, perhaps borrowed from one of the mother ducks at the pond. A poor college student, Trent of Trent's Tricks probably didn't have enough money to afford the customary rabbit for his show. _

"_San! I bet the duck is in the hat!" Brittany exclaimed, and the magician waggled his finger at her and then pulled out ten scarves instead. _

"_He's in there somewhere!" Brittany insisted, wandering past the audience line before Santana could stop her, and looking among the other props for the missing duckling. _

"_Britts!" Santana said dragging her back, seeing the magician's disapproving glare. "Come on, I think you're right. Lets just watch him. It's going to come out of his hat at any minute." _

"It's going to come out of his hat, any minute!" Santana said, taking her hand and pointing, as if this was the first time they had seen the show.

Brittany didn't answer, she had her eyes on two little girls, one little blonde being dragged back from trying to look directly inside the hat by a dark haired girl with a smile that didn't quite meet her eyes, until the little blonde turned back to her and whispered something in her ear. Then, a smile lit up her whole face and she giggled, the two of them abandoning the show to chase each other around. Brittany watched them pick dandelions and blow the seeds to each other in the wind, only stopping when the little blonde was pushed over by a boy twice their size so the dark haired girl could kiss it better, her hand then being captured by the blonde so she couldn't go after him.

"Stay here and play with me, Elianah," Brittany heard her say. She could see that Elianah had a split lip and a missing tooth, most likely from her last fight defending the blonde.

"But he pushed you, Hayley, and I hate him," she heard her say back fiercely.

"But you like me more than you hate him, don't you?"

Elianah nodded.

"Stay with me then," Hayley giggled, handing her a heart shaped candy from her pocket as if that sealed the deal.

Brittany wanted to capture that moment for those girls, protect it and put it somewhere where they could always get to it. She wanted to pick the little dark haired girl up and warn her to always stay away from bad people or she'd end up getting hurt.

She turned back to the magic show. Sure enough, the duckling poked its face out a moment later, and the mother waddled up and gave Trent, a man in his late twenties now, a vicious peck on the ankle.

"Told you so," Santana announced to her playfully.

There was an openness in Santana's face that reminded Brittany so much of who she was before, of the girl that she used to steal cookies and cupcakes with, and chat to over walkie talkie's to make sure nobody else was coming so they wouldn't be caught. Back in those days, sex was nothing but an abstract concept, and neither of them could ever have foreseen that in just a few years, everything would revolve around it; that it would become all about who was getting some, who wasn't, and then what sex they could get out of Santana before she broke.

They had been so happy then, that Brittany would never have predicted that Santana would go so far just to be liked. She thought she would stay like the brave little girl on the playground who wasn't going to play the rules of everyone's games unless she liked them. Back then, she'd been the girl with so much potential, and so much to give, because she hadn't had so much taken from her yet.

These pills, whatever they were, clearly brought that side of her back, she thought watching Santana turn her back disinterestedly on one of Puck's friends that was leaning over the fence beckoning to her. Whatever these pills were, they took the hurt away, bringing her back to start again.

Brittany had fantasized so many times about this very moment. She'd wished so many times that she could build a time machine to bring Santana and her back to easier times.

Pills were a sort of time machine.

The magician packed up and left, taking the kids with him. When she saw Santana's face blank out again, Brittany came to sit beside her on a hollow log and took her hand.

"When did we get here?" Santana asked looking a little bit afraid.

Brittany kneeled in front of her and kissed her on the nose. To her surprise, Santana's arms wound around her and her fingers tangled through Brittany's hair.

Brittany lay her head in Santana's lap as she had done a few nights ago, enjoying the clear view of Santana's eyes during their intimacy. Santana had the softest of smiles on her face, and didn't seem to mind Brittany staring. The sunlight shone on both their faces, there was nowhere for either of them to hide this time, and it seemed like she didn't even mind. Brittany gazed up at her, reaching a hand up to her cheek.

"I swear you're making me so wet, Britts," Santana told her, shifting a little. "Stop being so adorable."  
Giggling, she closed her eyes, to save herself from the sight.

Brittany's mouth dropped open. She wished it could be like this all the time. She wished the only reason Santana would ever not look at her when they were intimate would be because her heart was bursting with love, not because her heart was cracking at the edges with shame for what they were.

_But at what cost?_ Brittany wondered, watching Santana kneel down on the ground and pull up the grass, strand by strand.

She wasn't herself anymore. Taking away the pain, took away nearly everything else. She seemed content, but on the whole she was empty and vacant, and so lost. She had gained so much more over the years than pain, and it wasn't right to take all that away too. Brittany figured that was how some people seemed older than others. They knew too much, and had seen too much to stay the same.

Brittany wondered if it was her place to take the pills away from her. Was it right to force all the pain back on her shoulders? There were no books on animals with facts and figures to consult. That book she'd checked out on voles and other small animals wouldn't help her now, because the answers didn't lie there. The world was too complex for that. She knew that now. She clutched at her head. Making decisions was so hard.

She had to figure this out all on her own. She kissed Santana again, feeling her respond freely in a way she never had before even when they were alone and she wasn't worried who saw. She was kissing her back like she had let go of everything in that moment, but her heart. When Brittany eventually pulled back for air, she hovered over Santana's face, watching her.

When Santana's eyes fluttered open she had that same look of apprehension all over again.

"Brittany?" she asked.

The moment she spoke, Brittany knew this couldn't continue. She would walk her home and she would have to take the meds away from her, even if it brought Santana's pain back. The choice had to be in her hands right now, because obviously Maria wasn't going to realize that the reaction her daughter was having to these pills was too strong, and most of her other friends were on harder stuff, and wouldn't see it as a problem.

It was the biggest decision she'd ever had to make by herself, but she knew she was thinking only of Santana, so it was right. She had to be the leader of them now, and take charge.

Brittany wanted her girl back, even if she was a mess sometimes, and even if meant all Santana's old issues with intimacy would surface all over again.

This wasn't the right way to go back to the start.

Brittany took her hand. "Come on honey, I'll take you home."

"Home? Is that's where we're supposed to be."

"Yes," Brittany said trying to keep her voice steady, immediately feeling her own loss. You can give the unicorn dwelling on the carousel enough magic dust to think its shackles that fallen off, and it could gallop away and be free, but then you realize the shackles are still there, she's still spinning around, except she's going so fast now that she looks frozen in time.

* * *

"I don't want to do this," Brittany insisted, adamantly. She rolled over on Kurt's couch and pulled at her clothes.

"Britters Britters, banana fritters," Kurt joked, "it's not that bad. Really. We're just doing this so my dad thinks that I'm not gay."

"But you are gay," Brittany said, and wrinkled her nose at his new nickname for her, pushing him away.

Kurt pulled her back. "He could walk in any minute!" he told her. "Stay in position."

Brittany scowled at him. "I don't want to be a part of making you not as awesome as you are," she insisted. "You're not being you."

"Because being me, sucks," Kurt told her. "I'm the only out gay guy in the village, _and_ at our school, _and_ now I'm just the gay guy at home now too, ever since Finn started spending so much time with dad."

He frowned. "Hey, about your dad… you know you've never mentioned him to me."

"Okay, I'll do it, I'll act like we make out all the time for your dad," Brittany said interrupting him and sidestepping the question. "I'm not happy about it, but I'll do it. Besides, kissing you is kind of like kissing Santana. You wear the same perfume."

There was a brief silence. Kurt opened and shut his mouth several times as if he wanted to say something.

"Can I ask you something? What do boy's lips taste like? I mean, not me. Others, like Finn," Kurt said finally, his shyness coloring his cheeks.

_Nothing like hers,_ Brittany thought. _She tastes like strawberry's, sunshine, and a candyfloss trainreck._ It had been almost three weeks since Santana had allowed herself to feel something when Brittany kissed her, three weeks since Brittany had managed to take her off her medication by hiding all her pills, and three weeks since she had seen Santana smile. That last part was the worst, she had missed Santana's smile so bad...  
_Oh right, Kurt's waiting for me to answer_, Brittany thought. She had only kissed two guys, so it wasn't like she'd done a survey. "Usually dip. Or dim sims. Or like, burgers. Finn tasted like burgers."

"So you went through with the other night then?" Kurt asked.

"We had to," Brittany sighed, "I tried to stop Santana, and it wasn't like she didn't try to stop herself. It was Coach Sue's fault really. She said we had to seduce Finn, and that we had no choice."

"_Ever since Quinn Fabray got knocked up, I've been in the market for a new head cheerleader," Sue Sylvester said, eying Santana and Brittany up, not missing the subtle spark of interest in Santana's eyes.  
_"_If you want the job, and back in my good graces, you're going to have to turn around and listen up. You're familiar with a little Glee clubber named Rachel Berry? Rachel's the kind of girl who wants things too badly. And what she really wants, is one Finn Hudson. I want you to go after him. She'll go crazy. She won't be able to stand your dating him. Humiliated, shamed, she'll have no chance but to leave the group, and without her, Schuester won't make it to Regionals. Now get out of my office before I get hungry and turn on you like the short tail shrew, a vicious predator who needs to eat up to three times of it's bodyweight in one sitting. That knocks off both of you put together, little porcelain and the big toe of one Lauren Zizes."_

"And, it was just too much temptation for Santana," Brittany told him. "She's been feeling kind of out of it for ages, which means she knows that she has dropped off everyone's radar again. She wanted to be head cheerleader so bad. She kept asking me what she should do, and I didn't know what to say."

"_But you promised you wouldn't do it anymore. You promised you wouldn't get with guys you don't like and let them use you," Brittany said, and started pacing, biting her bottom lip until it bled. _

"_I know," Santana said, "I know. But this isn't like that. It really is me using him this time. It's different, Britt, I promise."_

_Brittany shook her head. She didn't have words. She would never be able to pull broken down Santana off the highway if she kept doing this. Brittany vowed then and there that she wouldn't let her do this all on her own. She'd kiss Finn too, even though she knew she'd hate it. _

"_I'll be okay Britts, really." _

"_You might get sick again," Brittany said tearfully, thinking of bloody toe shoes, the ribbons stained with the crimson fluid, and of IV's and meds, and all the things that came out of Santana hurting herself and making herself 'sick.' _

"_I'll be fine," Santana snapped at her, then instantly softened when Brittany's eyes immediately filled with tears.  
"Look Britt, I can handle this okay? And besides, we'll just go on a date with him at first, and you can kiss me if you like," Santana said, thinking of how crazy desperate Brittany had been to kiss her lately. It was like she was practicing for the kissing Olympics or something.  
"We can kiss in front of guys. It's like another unwritten rule," she told her. _

"_We can?" Brittany asked, cheering up. Maybe if she kissed Santana enough times during their date it would be like an antidote to its effects, and nothing bad could happen._

"So how did the date go," Kurt asked.

"I don't know," Brittany frowned, "it kind of confused me."

"_This food is unsatisfactory," Santana said authoritatively to the waitress. She nudged Brittany in the ribs to back her up. _

"_Huh?" Brittany sat up in her chair. Unsatisfactory means... not finished, Brittany thought. When I get an unsatisfactory on my dance exams, it means I have to keep practicing my steps. _

"_There was a mouse in mine," she said imagining that Remy (who had cooked all their food) wasn't done yet, and that the plate had been brought out to them with him still hanging over the edge of a plate chopping up onions. Brittany had seen Ratatouille, she knew mice were working in the kitchens at Breadstix, and it wouldn't be very good for business if they weren't doing their jobs. _

_Santana rolled her eyes. "Look she said to the waitress. I'm pretty sure you have to do what we say, and we'd like more please."_

_She put her hand to her forehead and leaned on the table. She had kept her word and been all over Brittany during dinner. But instead of being turned on, Finn had just raised his eyebrows at how close they seemed. What kind of guy was he? Puck would have been overjoyed. What if he talked about this to his friends? _

"She ended up sleeping with him."

"Who?" Kurt asked, trying to follow.

"Finn. I don't know why. I begged her not to, but she said she had to now. She went to the same motel room she always goes to, and I followed her, but I got lost on the way and was kind of late," Brittany told him.

"I found them just sitting on the bed together. Santana let me in without a word, and she had the weirdest guilty look on her face."

"_Are you okay?" Brittany asked, standing in the archway of the door. _

_Santana shrugged. "I can't leave him," she said, as if that was the only answer to that question, or at least the only thing she could think about right now. _

"_Why?" Brittany asked. _

"_Look at him," Santana said, discretely pointing at Finn sitting on the bed reading a magazine. "He kind of reminds me of you." _

_Brittany pouted at her. _

"_No, I mean it, he doesn't know the rules of this game, but he played anyway," Santana said.  
"He even tried to ask me what he should be feeling. He's still an asshole, but he's not like me… like how I used to be," she corrected. "He's more like you. He wanted it to mean something." _

"_Britt," she said suddenly, "if I give you money, will you run and get us burgers. There's no all night menu here." _

"_Okay," Brittany said, "but why?" _

"_Oh, I don't know. Guys spend all day daydreaming about greasy foods don't they?" Santana said irritably. "He'll take the bait. And I'll stop feeling like such a creep. And we can talk about burgers, so there won't be so much silence. It's the thought that counts." _

"So you all ate burgers together, in the middle of the night, in a seedy motel room," Kurt summarized for her_. And Satan has a heart_, he thought.

"Pretty much," Brittany said, "and I could tell Santana was so upset. So I figured I should share her pain, so she wouldn't feel so bad. You know, like how when your best friend pees her pants, you pee yours too so she won't be embarrassed? Or when she gets punched out by the biggest and meanest bully in the playground, then you go up to the bully and ask for a punch too, and take it so she won't look weak all by herself. Or when she…"

"Are you speaking from experience there?"

"Maybe," she said, a hint of a blush on her cheeks, "but anyway, I just kissed him. I've been kissing so much lately that its like those muscles in my mouth are in overdrive. He was a bit surprised to respond much, but I still got more than enough Finn slobber. I totally thought that if I did that, then she would be okay. But then she gave me the weirdest look, and I couldn't figure out how to explain myself."

"She said two wrongs don't make a right, or something like that. And then she wouldn't let me kiss her anymore, even though we were still in front of him, and that's the rule, if it's in front of a guy, then its okay."

"So kissing Finn was like…,"

"He was all scratchy. My face hurt. And yeah, burgers, it was like kissing the Hamburglar."

"Burgers," Kurt sighed dreamily.

"I wish I could give my kiss with Finn to you," Brittany said looking at him.

Kurt huffed, ready to launch into another one of his 'I'm not gay anymore' rants.

Burt Hummel burst through the door, and started talking to Kurt about murder mystery nights and using protection and things that Brittany only half heard as she tuned out.

Brittany giggled. She wondered if they sold Hamburglar alarms. She could install one at the Hummel house so Kurt's dad would stop inviting Finn over, and she could install one at that motel so Santana would never have that experience with Finn ever again. Or maybe it would be faster and better to Santana-proof that motel. She could string some peanuts over the door. Santana hated peanuts. Brittany wondered what she was doing right now.

_I probably shouldn't be here_, Brittany thought, as Kurt slung his arm around her. _I'm missing trying to get kisses with Santana, and I'm letting Kurt not be his awesome self._

"Sorry about that," Kurt apologized when his dad left. "I so owe you one."

"You're one of the strongest people I know Kurt. Seeing you like this makes me so sad."

"I can handle myself," he told her.

"I know," she agreed, readily. Even if he didn't know it, Kurt would come to his senses. His sense was never far away. He wasn't who she had to worry about.

Brittany frowned. "Can I cash in already of that favor?"

"Sure," Kurt said, a bit surprised.

"You're a guy, so could you just sit in the room sometimes and watch me and Santana kiss? You could wear sunglasses and just pretend you're looking. It is part of her rules, so …please?"

Kurt's mild surprise quickly turned into feeling stunned and bewildered. He nodded his head slowly. He wouldn't question it. He wasn't sure he really wanted to know.

* * *

"Brittany, he doesn't count," Santana said, when Brittany dragged her into an empty science lab for kisses, pointing enthusiastically at a very uncomfortable looking Kurt who was sitting in a corner filing his nails.

"Why not?" Brittany asked, "I followed your rules. You said we could kiss in front of guys. So I brought you one."  
"Kurt you're still a boy right?" she asked.

"Unfortunately, yes," he agreed.

"Brittany, how do I explain this to you?" Santana said struggling to figure out a way to explain why she had made the rule in the first place, without it sounding silly. Time was also an issue. As it turned out, out Mercedes was moving in on Puck, and she couldn't afford to be hanging out in abandoned science labs while Wheezy was staking her claim. Puck was playing the good guy and had brought Mercedes multiple lattes today, before Santana could intercept them. It made her skin crawl.

Brittany bit her lip. Maybe Santana had a problem with Kurt specifically. "Okay, well, outside I've got Wesley waiting. He's really looking forward to this actually. We can kiss in front of him then," she said brightly.

"You mean, your sisters friend? What is he, like twelve?"

"Yep! He's super cool. We have a lot to talk about because we both like motorcross and Madagascar and stuff."

Santana's eyebrows practically shot into her hair. _She wants me to kiss her in front of a little kid? _she thought.

"He's a boy," Brittany reminded her, seeing her expression. "I know the rules."

A bubble of laughter shot through Santana and she keeled over with the force of it. Kurt was sniggering to himself in the corner.

"What! What's so funny?" Brittany asked smiling, "what's the joke?"

Santana tried to compose herself, and failed.

"Am I the joke?" Brittany asked in a small voice.

Santana sobered up. "Oh, Britts, I said we could kiss in front of guys because… Kurt help me out."

Kurt shook his head. "You're on your own," he told her. If he'd known this was why Brittany had asked him to watch, he would have set her straight much earlier.

"It's hard to explain, but its like, some guys _like_ watching two girls kiss. So it makes it for them instead of us, which takes the attention off us and tricks them into thinking that we're making out for their entertainment only. That's why I said we could do it," Santana explained.

"But… but… but…," Brittany stammered. "It's not for them, it's for us. It's about us," she said, visibly upset.

"I know that," Santana said more gently, "but they don't have to know that."  
"It's just like… it's like a trick, Brittany. Like when Magic Trent made us think that the duck was in his suitcase and not in his hat."

"I'm not a show," Brittany said her voice quivering, "and neither are you, and neither are you." She pointed at both Santana and Kurt.  
"The sooner you both learn that, the better," she said and pressed her fingers to her temples.

Brittany gestured to Kurt. "You aren't some character that gets to change himself when your 'ratings' get bad at home or at school. You can't just come in a big tough guy outfit and sing Pink Houses and call yourself Kurt version two, because you think Finn is more popular than you. You're you for a reason, and putting on a jacket to be a second rate version of someone else doesn't work, because trust me, I've tried," she said beginning to cry.

"Brittany," Santana said softly, "don't cry."

"No!" Brittany said. "I've always wanted to be you, Santana. Because you're the bravest and most amazing girl in the whole world, and you're so, so smart. You're so lucky to be you, and you don't even care. You should just own it, and do whatever you want. Stop being who everybody wants you to be."

"Brittany," Santana started, wondering how she could fix it. Brittany looked so upset and angry and frustrated with her all at once.

Brittany shook her head viciously. "I was never kissing you so other people could watch us. I was only letting them watch because I thought I had to. I'm not a show Santana, and maybe I'm not very smart, but I'm not a joke."

_I was just trying to help you_, Brittany thought, casting one last lingering look at Santana before running out of the room, ignoring the way they were calling after her.

* * *

Brittany hid in the janitor's closet for her last class, and then quietly shuffled in for Glee club practice when the bell rang.

Santana looked up, her eyes slightly swollen. She had kept randomly crying in her last class, until the teacher had sent her to the nurse.

Mr Schuester looked them both over. Something had obviously gone wrong here. Santana was picking on Rachel again, using her as her personal punching bag. _Maybe singing would help at least one of them? _he thought.

"Ugh, I can't think about our number for Regionals over the potent smell of cabbage. Seriously, don't you carnival folk ever bathe?" Santana shot at Rachel, glaring at her fiercely. She was running out of height jokes. Maybe she could re-use last week's where she had told Rachel that she'd need a stepladder to reach the new sign up sheets that had just been posted for the mathletics team.

"Why don't you just load yourself into a slingshot and destroy our fortress," Tina said grumpily to Santana. She'd been the brunt of a snarky comment too, and she wasn't happy about it.

"I wouldn't be so angry if people didn't keep taking what's mine," Santana growled, staring at Mercedes and Puck and then looking back at Brittany frustrated. _At least the Angry Birds knew they wanted their eggs back from the evil pigs, I don't know what I want_, she thought.

_Okay, so I'll leave Santana to cool down_, Mr Schue reasoned. Santana had already had an 'angry solo' with Mercedes today anyway. He looked over at Brittany who looked like she was trying to disappear._ I'll try Brittany before she crawls back into her shell again_, he thought.

"Brittany," he said kneeling in front of her in her chair, "do you have a song you'd like to share?"

Brittany shook her head. "No."

Tina groaned. "What about me Mr Schue? Why should she get to skip ahead of me. I haven't had a solo in ages."

"You'll get your turn Tina," Mr Schue promised, "are you sure, Brittany, that there's nothing you want to sing about?"

Brittany hesitated. There was something she wanted so badly, and maybe if she sung about it she would get her message across. Santana and Mercedes had fought over Puck together this morning in a duet, and now he was sitting next to Mercedes kissing her cheek. Maybe she would win Santana over too if she sung a solo.

"What do you want most in the world Brittany?" Mr Schue whispered to her so none of the others could hear.

"Come on girl, let's hear it!" Mercedes called out from across the room.

Brittany nodded, and stood up, beginning to sing quietly. She chose the first song that came to her head. Mercedes put her palm out, moving it upwards to indicate she wanted her to sing louder.

**There you see her  
Sitting there across the way  
She don't got a lot to say  
But there's something about her  
And you don't know why  
But you're dying to try  
You wanna kiss the girl **

_Santana, I just want you to kiss me_, she thought. She looked right at Santana, locking eyes with her although it hurt to do so. She made sure that she knew that the words were for her. It was a little weird to sing about herself in third person, but it was okay, sometimes she did that anyway.

**Yes, you want her****  
****Look at her, you know you do****  
****It's possible she wants you, too****  
****There is one way to ask her****  
****It don't take a word****  
****Not a single word****  
****Go on and kiss the girl**

"Sing with me now!" Brittany called out and the Glee club (with the exception of Santana who was just looking at her feet embarrassed) all backed her up singing the chorus in harmony. Mercedes was the loudest of all. Even Rachel joined in this time. The Little Mermaid movie, and companion Broadway production was one of Rachel's favorite things.

**Sha-la-la-la-la-la****  
****My, oh, my****  
****Look at the boy too shy****  
****He ain't gonna kiss the girl****  
****Sha-la-la-la-la-la****  
****Ain't that sad****  
****Ain't it shame, too bad****  
****You gonna miss the girl****  
**

Brittany looked right at Santana again, trying to catch her eye but Santana kept stubbornly looking away. Now Brittany felt like the crab in the movie who had tried to convince the prince through subliminal messaging to kiss the mermaid, knowing that all he needed was a little encouragement. If their school ever put on a production of 'The Little Mermaid,' she and Santana could totally play all the characters as a two person show, because it was like the story had been written about them. Then, Brittany could sing 'Part of your world' because she wished so bad she fit in better sometimes, and Santana could sing 'Poor unfortunate soul' when she wanted to get her angry octopus on.

**Now's your moment  
Floating in a blue lagoon  
Boy, you better do it soon  
No time will be better  
She don't say a word  
And she won't say a word  
Until you kiss the girl **

For the last chorus the entire Glee club waved their arms from side to side as they sung with her. Brittany couldn't help smiling. The Glee club looked so happy and were so into it, throwing their arms around each other and giggling and pointing at each other.

**Sha-la-la-la-la-la****  
****Don't be scared****  
****You got the mood prepared****  
****Go on and kiss the girl****  
****Sha-la-la-la-la-la****  
****Don't stop now****  
****Don't try to hide it how****  
****You wanna kiss the girl****  
****Sha-la-la-la-la-la****  
****Float along****  
****Listen to the song****  
****The song say kiss the girl****  
****Sha-la-la-la-la-la****  
****Music play****  
****Do what the music say****  
****You wanna kiss the girl** **  
****You've got to kiss the girl****  
****Why don't you kiss the girl****  
****You gotta kiss the girl****  
****Go on and kiss the girl**

The moment she sung the last note, everyone got up and high fived Brittany and swore that more Disney songs should be sung. Rachel lay claim to something from Cinderella and Mercedes threatened another diva-off to anyone who tried to steal 'You've got a friend in me' from her, because she was the original 'Wheezy' and was not putting up with no fakes. Tina insisted on 'Colors of the wind' because she said it would suit her voice perfectly.

Santana stood back for a while, then silently walked out. Brittany stared after her and sighed. Okay, so maybe she got a bit carried away again.

She moved away from the crowd and went to follow her, but was stopped when Mr Schuester laid his hand on her arm.

"Did I finally get it right this time, Mr Schue?" she asked. Mr Schuester had been watching her sing the whole time, small lines creasing his face.

He scratched his head. "You know, there was definitely emotion behind that, and I liked that."

Brittany grinned.

"And I liked that you were brave enough to sing by yourself this time, that was great," he said.

Brittany grinned wider.

"But, Brittany, I get the feeling that you mostly shared another person's feelings today, almost as much as your own. You're on the right track, but I just want to hear what you feel, and not have it all mixed up with you trying to make some else feel something at the same time," he said almost tripping over the words.

Brittany sighed. She knew he was right. It had been done in the heat of the moment. She hadn't thought it through. She never thought anything through, or remembered that things have consequences.

"I know you want Santana to share too, but you can't do it for her until she's ready," Mr Schue said.

"I know," Brittany's voice was small.

"Still, it was definitely an improvement on last time. Maybe next time you'll get it right, okay? You're getting so close," he said and smiled at her. _At least she didn't cause so much of a riot this time, _he thought_._

He let her go, and Brittany ran to catch up with Santana who ignored her and kept walking.

Brittany caught hold of her arm. "I'm sorry Santana. I'm sorry! Nobody even noticed, I promise."

She looked like she was about to get down on her knees and beg Santana's forgiveness.

Santana just looked at her pained. She knew the others hadn't noticed, they had just thought Brittany was being Brittany, explaining away her strange behavior with just that. She made an effort to calm down and not fly into a rage this time, and found that she wasn't even that angry. She knew Brittany hadn't meant to hurt her. She knew Brittany had meant to empower her and make her go for what she wanted, but mostly Santana had just felt weak, like Brittany was making something so hard sound too easy, making Santana look like a coward, and maybe she thought she kind of was, but that wasn't easy to take.

"I was just trying to seduce you," Brittany mumbled.

"You… what?" In spite of herself, Santana couldn't help giggling.

"I don't know. You were singing at Puck to get him back this morning with Mercedes. I wanted to sing at you to get you back. I thought it seemed kind of like how we seduced Finn, just not as wet." _He kisses like a walrus_, Brittany thought.

"I never went anywhere, Brittany," Santana lay a hand on her arm.

"I know you didn't," Brittany sighed, "and yet you did. I want to help you so bad, just like I promised you."

Santana's eyes widened. _What is she talking about? _

"But I need your help back. I can't pull you off your carousel highway when you don't want to get off. I was just trying to help," she said vulnerably.

Santana's mind worked fast. _Is that what all that kissing was about?_ "After that night…," she trailed off, "you were trying to fix what's broken in me with kisses?"

"Did it work?"

"You know, I think it helped," Santana told her, taking her hand.

"Can we keep trying?"

Santana felt her insides flip over. "Britt...,"

"I could up my game," Brittany interrupted her, "I could do it more like you. I could do all the things you did that made all the guys on the football team powerless to do anything but kiss you."

Santana smirked. "Yeah? How do I do it?"

"Like this," Brittany batted her eyelashes in a way that Santana had never seen her do before. Next, Brittany threw her hair over her shoulder and posed so more leg was showing in her cheerios outfit. She then blew a kiss and walked a few steps away from Santana throwing a backwards glance over her shoulder as she strutted off.

"And then when they look like that," Brittany said triumphantly pointing at Santana's face, "then you say, 'carry my books' or 'buy me bling.'"

Brittany made her eyelids heavier and dropped her voice as low as she could. "Or, I'm not wearing any."

"I say all that do I?" Santana said, trying to contain her amusement. Flirty Brittany was a sight she never thought she would see, even if it was only an imitation of Santana herself.

Brittany nodded.

"Not wearing any what, Britt?" Santana asked huskily.

"Duh, no makeup of course," Brittany smiled at her, "that's totally when you're at your most sexy."

Santana felt her insides turn to mush at Brittany's words. That was such a sweet interpretation of the way she teased guys by saying she wasn't wearing any panties.

"And then bam!" Brittany startled her as she clapped her hands. "Seduced!"

"Is that right?" Santana smiled a warm smile at her.

"Yep! Now I've seduced you, you have to do my bidding."

"Okay. What do you want me to do?"

"I want to have sweet lady kisses with you," Brittany said without even needing to consider it.

Santana's eyes dropped and she looked around them fearfully, scanning the lockeroom for anyone coming. "Britt, shhh… sound travels remember?"

"Is that a no?" Brittany asked disappointed, "if you really don't want to... that's okay and stuff."  
She paused. "You really don't want to kiss me?"

Santana's face became conflicted, like she was struggling in a battle within herself.

"No," she finally admitted, "I really want to." _It's not that I don't know what what I want, it's that I can't deal with what I want, and it's perhaps that I want too much, she thought. _

She remembered Brittany kissing her a couple of weeks ago when she'd been reacting to the meds her therapist gave her. It was about the only thing she could remember from that entire time. She remembered how Brittany's lips had felt like a light in the darkness, guiding her to safety, making her feel strangely warm inside. How could something that was so wrong feel so right?

Brittany brightened, "I knew it! Then what's stopping you?"

"Brittany," she hissed, "we're girls. Don't you know how people at this school would react? Do you see any other girls kissing here, what would everyone think?"  
She had explained this to her so many times, yet it never seemed to sink in.

"No." Brittany shook her head, her answer to most of those questions. She never thought much about what other people thought, mostly because it seemed like there was a wall that separated her mind from being able to consider what other people might be thinking. Sometimes it wasn't so bad because she really had no interest in knowing what a lot of people she knew thought, because they were so bitchy and judgemental. She always had picked a small sea of special people to puzzle out, but across the murky waters, the rest of the world remained unknown.

Brittany decided to skip over all that and just tell her the simplest thing possible, hoping it would also be the most effective..  
"I really like you Santana, and I feel happy when we're touching. I don't know why and it doesn't exactly make sense, but I do."

Santana sighed. Brittany couldn't understand why when you wanted something, sometimes getting it was just too complicated. This was a girl who still believed in Santa and unicorns. To her, anything was possible if you wanted it. In her magical dimension, there were no boundaries, not even between real and make believe.

It was time for Santana to tell her. Brittany had to grow up sometime.

"You know, Brittany, sometimes, things just don't work out the way we want them too. Even when it seems like they really should work out, sometimes they still don't."

"What do you mean?"

"Um," Santana struggled to find words Brittany might use, "it's like how the other day you wanted to have an ice-cream sandwich, and ice-cream and bread aren't usually things that people think go well together."

"But it was awesome," Brittany intoned seriously.

"Yes," Santana agreed. It had been surprisingly tasty.

"Okay, well remember how it was great for a couple of seconds while the ice-cream was still whole."

Brittany sighed. It had been so good.

"But then the ice-cream just melted and everything got soggy and not so nice anymore?"

"Yeah, that sucked," Brittany agreed.

"Well yeah, life is like that, only a hell of a lot more complicated. We really wanted to eat ice cream sandwiches, but it just isn't going to happen, yeah? Sometimes things just suck."

"I make you soggy?" Brittany asked a bit tearfully.

_Wanky_, Santana thought, for a second almost wanting to laugh, but finding the impulse faded the minute she saw Brittany's face. "Sometimes, things just aren't fair, B. Sometimes even things that are perfect for each other, just aren't meant to be. Sometimes lo…," Santana broke off.

Brittany's eyes were piercing hers now. _Why was it so hard to say_? She wanted to tell Brittany that sometimes love isn't meant to be, and that there's nothing you can do to change that.

Brittany seemed a thousand years old when she spoke again, echoing what Santana had said before and finishing her sentence.

"Sometimes life just sucks."

* * *

_Sometimes life just sucks_, Brittany mused, listening to Mr Schue sing 'Somewhere over the rainbow,' accompanying himself on this funny little instrument he called a ukelele. It was their last Glee club meeting of junior year, and everyone was feeling emotional and nostalgic. The song comforted her, because when she heard it, she thought of Santana. But, she didn't understand why Mr Schue chose it to sing it to celebrate getting another year of Glee club even though they had lost at Regionals. 'Somewhere over the rainbow' was a song all about longing for things that you thought you could never have, not one for being grateful for all you had found.

Brittany was learning fast that there were so many things she might never have, even if it made no sense as to why she couldn't have them. Swaying slowly to the music, she hooked her pinky into Santana's and snuggled into her side resting her head on her shoulder. She wanted more, but this would have to be enough. Hearing their song was making her happy and sad all at once. It was hard to hope for a brighter future and imagine what could be over the rainbow, while you were dragged down by so many things you couldn't change. _I wish we could be more someday_, she thought wistfully looking at Santana. _I just want to be everything with you, nothing holding us back. _

Santana heard Brittany's sad little sigh and squeezed their joined hands. She knew that Brittany had to be thinking about the year they'd had. The highs and the lows, the ups and the downs and how far it had taken them both.

Earlier, Santana had been thinking the same thing when they had sung To Sir with love to Mr Schue. She'd cried when she'd sung it, but not for him. For some reason, Berry had picked her to sing the line "a friend who taught me right from wrong, and weak from strong, that's a lot to learn" and it had brought her to tears and she had looked right at Brittany when she had sung it, because that was how she felt about her.  
Brittany had always been 'that friend' to her. Maybe she didn't get it right all the time, but she always tried to do the right thing, by herself and by Santana, and all the while she had always tried to tell Santana to be strong and shake off her demons.

_What can I give you in return?_ Santana wondered.

It was like Brittany's voice came to her, patiently telling her all over again to finally stand up and be strong.

She looked at Brittany's face, troubled with the weight of all she thought she couldn't change, and she wished she had never tried to tell her that bluebirds couldn't fly, or that beyond the rainbow, skies weren't always blue. She wished that she had just let Brittany believe.

_What can I give you in return?_ The music echoed in her mind, mixing together with the English version of 'Somewhere over the rainbow' creating almost a haze in her mind. She wished she could give Brittany the power to believe anything was possible again.

Brittany raised her hand and asked Mr Schue if she could go to the bathroom. Santana knew she was most likely heading to the janitor's closet to cry by herself.

"Fuck it!" Santana said under her breath, and took off after her. As soon as she was out of the choir room, she broke into a run, pausing outside the auditorium. The senior students were graduating, and the opening strains of 'The Scientist' were coming through the cracks in the door_. They play that song every year_, _and next year it will be me and Britt on that stage hearing it, _she thought sentimentally_. Our last year_.

She felt Brittany's presence behind her before she saw her.

"I love this song," Brittany told her, gesturing, "but I can't hear it very well behind all those walls and closed doors."

For a moment they stood, holding hands as the first few bars took them to another place.

"So we'll open them," Santana said breathlessly. It was now or never. She didn't have long to figure all this out. What if she lost her? She had to do something now.

"Really?" Brittany asked, not immediately seeing the metaphor, her hand coming to rest on the handle of the door.

Santana rested her hand on top of hers. "Not like that," she said, "play the song in your mind. You can hear it right?"

Brittany nodded and Santana caught her hand, spinning her around slowly, as they found their rhythm in a slow dance.

_Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry  
You don't know how lovely you are  
I had to find you, tell you I need you  
Tell you I set you apart  
_

"I had to follow you before," Santana said, coming in close and resting her head on Brittany's shoulder, "to tell you I'm sorry for not believing in you. You believe anything is possible, and I tried to take that from you, instead of letting you show me. There's no-one like you, Britt. And, it's just like Rachel said at Regionals, 'being a part of something special makes you special.'"  
"I don't know why I fought so hard against being special," Santana told her, hugging her tightly.

_Tell me your secrets, and ask me your questions  
Oh let's go back to the start  
Running in circles, coming in tails  
Heads on a science apart_

In response, Brittany picked her up and lifted her off her feet, spinning her around. Santana drew her feet up as high as she could, and threw her arms out like she was flying. There were still a million things to know about Brittany, and a million things Santana had yet to share. Brittany's disorder made their minds rest on different spectrums, hers documented and studied in textbooks, making them as like a science apart. There was so much she could teach each other, she wanted to listen to all of Brittany's questions and try to help her find her answers. She never wanted this to end.

_I was just guessing at numbers and figures  
Pulling the puzzles apart  
Questions of science, science and progress  
Do not speak as loud as my heart_

As she twirled Santana around, Brittany felt her heart expand to at least twice its size, as the most powerful of realizations washed over her. There was no logic to love. All this time she'd thought that she had to understand it, to feel it, and that had never been true. She'd tried to pull the puzzle of love apart, piece by piece until it seemed like there could be a formula for it, with facts and figures, but she was wrong. Love was no different to everything else in her world, because it was just something you believed in. You fell into it with no rhyme or reason, like it wasn't even a choice. It could never be understood, all you had to do was feel it, and accept it was there. _You just have to believe, and I believe more than anybody,_ Brittany thought. _And __you don't have to know where you're headed on the highways and byways, or know what's there or why you want to get there, you've just got to be the one brave enough to say yes to the trip. That's love._

_And tell me you love me, come back and haunt me  
Oh and I rush to the start  
Running in circles, chasing our tails  
Coming back as we are_

For a moment, Santana hesitated. She wondered if she really could begin again, and stop running in circles long enough to take a second chance that might finally lead her back to the place she should have gone to in the first place, and back to the person she should have been. _I've treated pain like my best friend for far too long, I've let it lie with me at night and I've let it rule me. I have wondered if my pain is all I am? Is it too much a part of me to never come back and haunt me?_ she thought.

_When Brittany stops spinning me, will I really go back to the start?_ Santana wondered._ I can only try._

_Nobody said it was easy  
Oh it's such a shame for us to part  
Nobody said it was easy  
No one ever said it would be so hard  
I'm going back to the start_

"Isn't this a song about saying goodbye?" Brittany asked her, as she danced the Pas de Santana, putting her down and letting her lead her in some graceful steps.

"Not really," Santana said smiling warmly, "I think it's about choosing to let go of something so you can begin again. Making the choice is the hardest part. Sometimes it's hard to let go of pain, especially when you've been close to it for so long. And sometimes, to let go of pain, it's a journey you have to take alone. When you're stuck, you have to free yourself and let yourself go, even if it's never easy, even if it means letting go of a part of yourself to find something new."

"Meet me back at the start, Britts," she said wetting her lips before looking into Brittany's eyes, and capturing her mouth in the sweetest of kisses.

End of Part 2.

* * *

**That one there^ was one of the best moments I ever had. I think Santana and I were both right. Everything is not possible, we don't live in a magical dimension of possibilities that are all sure to never fail, but sometimes you've got to believe in _what could be_ to try new things. There's a balance or something. When we worked together, we were the essence of that balance, like yin and yang.**

**The song 'The scientist' is really personal to both of us. I heard someone is singing it on Glee in the next episode, but their interpretation of the song is probably really different to ours, and that's okay.**

**Brittany grew up a fair bit in this chapter, I never realized how much. I miss the days where I used to think everything could be fixed with kisses, and yet I don't at the same time. It was around this time that I really started to pull my own weight as a person, because I really wanted to take care of Santana forever, in a way she could always count on, and that definitely forces you to grow up.**

**Finally understanding that I already understood love (as confusing as that is) was also really, really important.**

**Three billion things:**

**1. Brittany S. Pierce and her ever-present silly songs. Santana is the only person I've ever met who has ever humored my singing to inanimate objects. My (measuring) Cup is a bit too sexual for high school Brittany, it's more like one I'd come up with now, but I amused myself and went with it anyway. :P**

**2. With Kiki, I'm … I think Katie calls it trolling, haha. I just want you all to look south when show-Brittany refers to getting advice from Kiki, like she's really getting advice from her vagina. :P  
****Also, that cheer camp story I referred to is true. Santana was explaining anatomy to me (again) and it came up that vagina's do have a head. I informed her that anything with a head needs a name, and she laughed until she cried, while I sat there 100% serious pondering names. I picked something way different to Kiki, but it's a good name too. I think I figured out what humor means that year. I still just said what was on my mind, but I started saying stuff for effect as well, like making a "Kiki" reference every now and then to cheer Santana up. I loved hearing her laugh. I also named her boobs. This is all probably stuff I'm supposed to keep to myself. :P**

**3. I don't really want to comment on the sex scene much, apart from saying that it was very frightening and intense for me and I can't believe I wrote it down. When I finally went home the next day she seemed okay, but I cried the whole way home. I will say that Santana's problems where she'd tense up and panic when she was touched intimately never actually had a 'cure' as such. It's sort of like being an alcoholic who finds his way to sober. She learned to cope with it, but there was always the potential for her to get like that again unless we took certain steps.  
****It was hard for her making the decision to start pushing past those barriers, let alone choosing to do it _with another girl_. But she gave me a chance to help her start fresh, and the lead up to that, was what this chapter was about.**

**4. The meds. That time where Santana was on antidepressants was so weird. I spoke to someone about it, and they told me she had a rare reaction, but it does occasionally happen. I've noticed that the biggest side affect of all of her drug use, has been her memory loss. I used to think it was only short term stuff, but now I've noticed her long term memory isn't what it used to be either. The drug she was on in this chapter really exaggerated her memory problems.**

**5. "We can kiss in front of guys" happened. I wasn't smart enough to realize the social implications of Santana's rule and how it couldn't be with just any guy.**

**The Finn/Santana scene was a bit different. One of Puck's friends was pressuring her to get back to her old habits so I kissed him instead because I thought he might leave her alone if I did (he didn't). It was like kissing a walrus. I was also genuinely terrified that she would 'get sick' again if she was used even one more time, and again, the world is more complex than that… just because something has been seen to happen once, doesn't mean it will inevitably happen again. It sounds so simple, yet I was about 20 I think, before I understood that.**

**There was actually no Finn (and no Sue). At the time she was thinking a lot about the people she had used, so it was just a general regrets thing.**

**6. I also hated when Kurt played straight so bad. I guess that's not that uncommon. It's difficult to be marginalized in society by your sexuality, so I guess a lot of people might 'try out' straight to see if it works to make their lives easier. The 'only gay in the village' line was a reference to the show 'Little Britain.' My Kurt found that show last year and quotes it like crazy.**

**7. Lastly, I don't think I've mentioned that I'm no stranger to being told to sing everything out like Mr Schue says. The minute mom figured out that I could sing, she had me enrolled in some disadvantaged kids community music/theatre/dance program that I really should never have been in, because it was really for kids with no money who slept in cars, or kids with cancer or the really rich kids whose parents funded the program. Mom played the Asperger's card and it only worked because nobody there knew what it was and they probably thought it was a sickness, rather than a developmental problem. At one point, I played Tinkerbell in the weirdest musical production of Peter Pan ever, and they turned the lights down for me so I could come out and sing 'Hopelessly devoted to you' from 'Grease' to Peter, when he ditched Tinkerbell for Wendy, except I was really nervous and refused to look at him and sung it to Santana out in the audience instead. :)**

**This chapter would be such a nice ending, and if I were thinking for a literary perspective I think I would end here. Except it's not a story… and I'm not seventeen anymore. So I will continue, but time will go a bit faster now. I spent 8 chapters on junior year because it matched so well with Glee, and was so important for us. **  
**I've got 6 more... seasons of my life that I want to talk about, which probably means about 6 more chapters. We haven't actually had a chapter under 12-14k in ages…which is why I've been slower to update 'cause so many words take me AGES to check through because it's hard for me to find mistakes in my own work so I have to look really, really carefully and more than once, and I _still_ think I miss spelling/grammar errors sometimes so I'm sorry about that. Anyway, this chapter was 19k, and the one before was well over 20k so 6 chapters could go on forever the way I'm going.**

**I can't believe I have an audience to read all these words still, thank you all so much for listening. :)**


	18. Return If Possible

**After the last chapter's reviews I realized that I needed to make a diary with all the quotes of what all you unicorns have been kind enough to say. It's so easy to take bad stuff to heart, and so much harder to really take all the good things in, and good things are so much harder to come by. I mean, it takes a person nothing to throw out a meaningless insult and tear someone down, but it takes so much heart for anyone to get to the point where you want to give the words that so many of you have given me, and I'm going to make them count and always look at the diary when I get sad.  
****Today, I did a page on the words "I came here for Brittana but I absolutely stayed for you," with many, many stars and rainbows, and tomorrow I'm totally going to do up a page for some of Orange-Green's lovely words. I would have done them earlier, except I was busy looking for the appropriate Orange and Green colored glittery pens. :P**

**xoxo – Definitely take as long as you need! I've actually even thought about taking a hiatus on this story, except I'm not sure. I know that timing is an important thing, and that drama in this story might not go down well if people are already reeling from glee-drama. But it's hard to know what to do about all that. Anyway, I miss you, you totally inspire so much of the development of this story with your suggestions, kind of like a beta I guess :)**

**NoPlainJane – Your review had such an effect on me. I knew that this story would find other 'Brittany's' and other 'Santana's' but I had no idea that I'd find one half of a pair who had been lucky enough to meet. There was some journal article(?) on asperger's that I read that actually described the two personality types as being like magnets for each other, so maybe I should have guessed. I know you mentioned she was 'former' and that breaks my heart, and you totally don't owe me anything, but if you ever wanted to find some way to share anything with me about how it was between you and her, I would love that. Making sense out of all this is so hard, and maybe you hold keys to answers about things that I won't be able to find by myself, even by the end of this story. I completely understand if you don't want to though, and I wanted to thank you anyway, just for letting me know you're out there.**

**hlnwst – You have to be the best herd-er of readers on the planet! I read your review, and read the part about you wanting to tell people about this, and then not too long after it was like a stampede of people came and I got a whole bunch of alerts all at once. You should have seen my face. :P At first I was just stunned, and then there was much grinning. I will really treasure everything that you said, thank you so much, and I love that you've worked with autistic kids, because that makes me admire you. I really hope you enjoyed the last 4 chapters you had to read (and this one!).**

**Miara848- Aww! You must have had really sore feet *all the hugs*. I have many stories about… missing clothing except I used to forget more than just my shoes. :P When I was younger and doing theatre and musicals, there were always all these checks we did before going on stage, and every time I was in a show whether it was in the chorus or otherwise, the number one check would be for the stagehands to check I actually even had clothes on. Sometimes we were only given a couple of minutes to change costumes, and I'd tear my old one off just fine... it was then remembering to put the new one on before wandering off, that was always the problem. It took a team of people to ensure that my seven year old self never walked out on stage naked. :P**

**DancyFeet – I love your name! Do you dance too? It sounds like you've got such a happy story, like you've been a unicorn for a really long time and are just owning it, and I love that. It gives me hope, haha. I'm kind of only at the beginning of being this new person now, so I guess I haven't had a chance to take it for granted yet, or see what doors have opened up now I can cope better with things, so I guess I'm saying thanks for reminding me of the future, just like I reminded you of the past. :) I hope you liked the later chapters and all that!**

**harumad – You never butcher the English language! I really love the way you express yourself, I could actually sit and listen to you talk all day. I know people with English as their first language that don't use it half as well as you. I like the way you put words together and explain things, there's something creative and different about your style of speaking. As for me, I would have no hope of saying much of value in Spanish, though I do know a few very important phrases that Santana taught me like… "te quiero con todo mi corazon" but I don't think that would get me far if I got lost in Mexico and was looking for directions. :P  
****And don't worry, I know when you mean Brittany you mean me, I didn't know you were proud of me though, and that means a lot to me. :) *hugs*  
****As for the last scene, I know what you mean, I think there's a movie starring Holly Holliday… (sorry, I mean Gwyneth Paltrow) called 'Sliding Doors' which is all about moments like that. I notice that kind of thing a lot writing this, because phrasing real life as a story kind of points out alternate endings that could have been, but never came to be. At least up until this point, I think I went through the right 'doors' and I hope I can still say that at the end.**

**Okay, I should probably stop there before I take up more space, so I'll just say a general thank you to everyone, and I hope you all enjoy this next chapter!**

**This chapter is all pretty much unplanned, and full of things I wasn't going to talk about. So I hope it works and isn't a mess. We shall see. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 18 – Return If Possible**

**Brittany S. Pierce, Present.**

_G: "Now then, there's something I want to show you. Look!"_

_P: "The ripples." _

_G: "So small at first, then look how they grow. But someone has to start them." _

**-**_Grandmother Willow and Pocahontas. _

* * *

**Brittany S. Pierce, age 17.**

"I have to admit, it was pretty funny watching you do the splits without meaning too. You've definitely improved since last time though," Santana said, teasingly. Skating at the local roller rink was kind of lame, but Brittany kept harassing her about going again and again, probably because April Rhodes specialized in cheese snacks to go with all the wine she drank, and even though she was long gone, her cheese legacy at the food bar lived on.

"I can't help that my skates have minds of their own, one foot goes one way, and the other gets offended and tries to leave the room. It's nothing like dancing. When I'm dancing, my feet always listen to me," Brittany replied, her mouth forming a pout.

"Yeah, skating is more like walking than dancing, and you've never been particularly good at that one," Santana said. _Not that I minded holding onto you the whole time so you didn't fall flat on your face,_ she thought affectionately.

Brittany punched her lightly. It was true. _Walking without tripping over your feet is so hard,_ she thought_. It's not scripted like dancing. _

Santana let herself into the Pierce family home, fumbling for a moment with the keys. "So are you sure your mom is gone again, and Katie too?" she said nervously looking around. In no way was she in the mood to deal with the wrath of Mrs Pierce today.

"Yeah, they're at the beach, they could be gone for ages."

Santana paused. "And they didn't bring you?" she asked. _And they left you by _yourself, she added silently in her mind.

"No," Brittany said quietly, "but I hope they have fun and stuff. Katie won tickets to see her favorite band live on this radio competition, and part of the deal is that they get to stay in a really fancy hotel on the beach for a couple of weeks."

"Oh, so it was a two people only deal then?"

Brittany shrugged.

Santana cocked her head on one side, quizzically.

"They didn't want me to embarrass them," Brittany admitted, her voice small.  
"It's a big deal for Katie, but she was sort of okay with me going, it's just… mom wanted to do all the stuff they can't usually do with me around so she said I couldn't come-" she trailed off.

A hot rage instantly flared inside Santana. She'd forgive Brittany's little sister, but Susan was so on her list. She'd never understand that woman. She was so overprotective of Brittany, always wanted to keep her away from the big bad Santana monster, but when it came to Brittany's emotional needs, she was about as warm as a dead fish.

"But you see all the post it notes everywhere? That's all the stuff I've got to do. There's like instructions so I won't mess up," Brittany clarified.

Santana blinked. She went up to the lamp by the couch and plucked the yellow post it note off it.  
"Do not leave me on."  
_Wow, she's specific_, Santana thought.

"I'm always wasting electricity," Brittany said, looking at her feet.

Santana went over to the fridge where many notes were posted, all in a rainbow of colors. All of them had various different directions reminding Brittany to eat. She turned back to her friend, plucking a pink note and waving it incredulously in front of her own face slowly as if she couldn't believe it.

"I don't eat sometimes," Brittany reminded her. It wasn't like she meant to keep forgetting, it was just that her body didn't always send her the memo that it needed food to keep going. Last week she had spent days learning about the construction of carousels, and it was like the need-for-food signals had faded away to nothing, and all that had been left were pictures of painted horses, that spun around in her mind until she was too sick and dizzy to look at them anymore. Even then, Brittany couldn't figure out what was wrong with herself. She should have guessed it was a food problem.

"Yes, I know but…," Santana stood there, at a loss for words. Couldn't Brittany see the problem with this? It was so degrading. Okay, so it was true that Brittany might struggle to maintain a household by herself when her family was gone for more than a few days, but surely a phone call to remind her of things every now and then was better than all these post-it notes? She clenched her fists.

"Her house, her rules," Brittany quoted mechanically, her cheeks coloring.

"Okay, that's enough," Santana told her. "Your life, your rules. What happened to the girl who told her mom where to put all those behavior charts? Where'd she go," Santana said flashing her a grin and putting her hands over her eyes and turning around.

Brittany giggled. Santana could be such a dork sometimes. The cutest, most adorable dork. She stepped forward into Santana's back and wrapped her arms around her waist. "I'm right here San," she told her.

Santana relaxed into Brittany's embrace, resting her own hands on top of hers, which were clasped at her stomach.

"Are you sure," she teased, lightly tickling the inside of Brittany's wrists.

She felt Brittany nod into her hair.

"So, we're going to tear all these notes into a billion pieces, and then we're going to throw them in the trash," Santana informed her, "and, we're starting with this one."  
Santana moved over to the couch and picked up the blue note.  
"I am not a bed," she read out.

"Oh, mom just doesn't want me to fall asleep in front of the TV anymore. The electricity bill is high enough already," Brittany said with a small laugh, trying to explain her mom's concerns, knowing that Santana's mom didn't have to worry about money problems as much as hers did.

Santana wasn't amused. _That bitch be crazy_, she thought looking at the family picture on the wall. Brittany was looking away from the camera as usual, Katie was only tiny and then there was Susan. She tossed a few notes at Susan's face, the last hitting her square in the forehead like a bull's-eye.

Brittany grabbed another a yellow note off the fridge.  
"_If you have guests, please clean up, we are not a crack house."_

Santana made a miming motion, encouraging Brittany to crumple it in her hands.

Brittany didn't. She stood there quietly regarding Santana. "My mom loves me," she told her, looking at her from underneath her lashes. "She went to a lot of trouble to write these for me."

Santana made a strange noise in her throat. She opened her mouth to tell Brittany exactly what she thought of that woman, and found herself closing it again, at the sight of Brittany's stark, vulnerable eyes. _Now isn't the time for a bitch session_, Santana thought.

Brittany looked at her feet.

"Yeah, I know that she loves you," Santana told her, honestly.  
She had no doubt that Susan would probably jump in front of a moving bus to protect Brittany, and would invest her last dollar into her education or her health.  
Santana knew Susan worried about Brittany a lot. It was years ago now, but she had never seen anyone so panicked as Susan had been when she had dragged accident-prone-Brittany home after she had cut herself up badly on the Lopez's driveway, while pretending to be a revving Ford Mustang.  
After realizing that she didn't need stitches, Susan had carefully bandaged her up, but like always, she had left it up to Santana to kiss it better.

Santana hated how Susan had taken on the role of a teacher with her daughter, as if harsh discipline and strict rules was the only way to help, and might one day even 'fix' her. Santana had to admit that all the time Susan had spent teaching Brittany life skills had helped her a lot in some ways, but it certainly didn't help her all the times that Brittany had needed to be reassured that she wouldn't die from her latest injury she had sustained. That part had been Santana's job, and they'd started out with just words, then pinky holds, and then Brittany had allowed Santana's arm around her shoulders, and then finally, kisses.  
Santana was glad to be that person for Brittany, but she was angry that Susan hadn't ever done the same, because she knew that even when Brittany was little and couldn't handle being touched, she had still wanted it.  
_At least Susan's better with Katie,_ Santana thought.

Brittany shrugged, as if reading her thoughts. "She can only do the best she knows how to do," she said.

"I guess that's true. But hey, maybe we know better?" Santana said with a grin, tearing up another note.  
"As president of your Unicorn Club, I rule that all these notes are freaking ridiculous, and even if you end up putting your uniform on backwards all week, that's still less silly than all this."

Brittany looked down at the note in her hand, and then crumpled it into a tiny ball.

Santana cheered, clapping and pumping her fist in the air.

Within minutes they were plucking notes, screwing them up into balls and tossing them at each other in an impromptu paper fight.

"Not at my head!" Santana screeched. "Do you know what getting a paper cut on your eye ball would be like?"

"No," Brittany shouted back, ducking for cover as a rainbow of paper balls whizzed by her. "Have you ever had one?"

"No, never! But my mind still goes there, I don't know why!"

Brittany mischievously aimed a few just above Santana's head, and they rained down on her.

"Britt!" Santana hollered, pelting a few into her stomach.

"Aww, okay San," Brittany relented, tossing a pile of them above her own head, giggling, and then going for Santana's feet instead.

"Well, aren't you just braver than me," Santana said in mock indignation.

Brittany stopped. "Nope," she said, "because now my mind's on the eyeball thing, it just took a moment for it to get there."

She held her hands up as a ceasefire, and walked over to Santana, the balls of paper crunching under her feet.

"See, once you go there, you never go back," Santana said, letting Brittany bury her head in her shoulder, and wrapping her arms around her. "You'll never look at paper the same way again."

"Oh my god I have to show Lord Tubbington," Brittany said suddenly, untangling herself from Santana and rushing up the stairs.  
"This is totally a mess worthy of him, and he'll probably want to roll in it, and if he's rolling in it, then so am I!"

"Tubs?" Brittany called reaching the upstairs bedroom. "Tubs!" she called again, spotting the cat on the other side of the room, curled up in a ball with his back to her.  
"Are you done with your masochistic all-punishing diet. You're starting to remind me of a house elf. Mom really didn't mean to call you fat or anything, and honestly it freaks me out that you didn't eat your dinner last night, because we had mac and cheese, and that's your favorite."

"Britts," Santana said coming into the room, "you've got to stop feeding that cat people-food. Don't think I don't know that you save both your cats part of your dinner every night, and take it up and share it with them. They're getting fatter every day and you're really starting to worry me." She felt Brittany's ribs, cupping her hands around them as she counted them one-by-one.

"San, he didn't even eat his breakfast," Brittany said, worriedly, pointing to the full bowl. "Tubs, wake up and eat your breakfast," she insisted, moving closer.

Santana frowned. That cat could stand to miss a meal or ten, but it really was unlike him not to eat. He also looked stiff, too stiff and unmoving to be asleep. She pulled Brittany back. If he was dead then she really didn't want Brittany to see. "Go downstairs," she told her.

"No," Brittany said immediately, wondering why Santana was suddenly looking so upset, and not wanting to leave her because of it.

Santana grasped her wrist firmly. "I'm serious, Brittany. You need to go downstairs right now. I'll come down in a minute."

Brittany nodded. She trusted her. She threw a last concerned look at her girl and the cat before leaving the room.

As soon as Brittany was out of sight, Santana walked over to the cat. "Look, I'm going to just level with you here, you don't like me, and I don't like you. You've shredded my favorite sweater and I take all of Brittany's attention when I'm over here. I get it, but you better be faking, or-" Santana trailed off, reaching down to touch the cats head. He was warm, and he opened his eyes, giving her a disdainful stare.

Santana let out a breath she didn't even know she had been holding. _Thank god, _she thought. She petted him, looking at him curiously when he didn't roll away from her, and was still eying her with the same stare, as if he were trying to tell her something.

Fifteen minutes later, Santana slowly descended the stairs and walked down to Brittany who was sitting on the couch, tears slowly falling down her cheeks. "He's just tired from all those long distance calls he made to Japan this week," Brittany insisted before Santana could even speak.

"Baby girl, I can smell urine on his breath," Santana told her, sighing, wondering how to best approach this one. Her Abuela's cat had already gone through the same thing. "That means his kidneys are failing. He's very old you know, and that happens sometimes, and there's nothing we can do about it."

"No, that's just his smoking habit. He smokes pot you know, and when you come from Puck's house sometimes you smell all woodsy like animal pee. That's what pot smells like, so that's why -"

"Brittany."

Brittany dissolved into tears, wishing that she had been paying closer attention to him lately. He seemed fine before, and today was the first day he hadn't eaten anything.

"I'm going to take him to the vet," Santana said quietly to her, "you stay here."

In the quarter of an hour that she had been upstairs, she and the cat had made a deal. Santana could tell that the reason he had been lying like that in the corner of the room was because he was fading fast and was looking for somewhere to quietly pass away where no one could see him. Cats were private like that, and Santana knew that she agreed with him on one thing – they had to do this in the way that would be easiest for Brittany. They both wanted to protect their girl.

Santana carried the cat downstairs, struggling under his weight and with difficultly held him up for Brittany to kiss his nose, before leaning down to kiss her on her forehead, telling her to put on a movie, and that she'd be back later.

Hours went by before Kurt appeared carrying flowers.

"I'm sorry about your cat, Britts," Kurt told her.

"I know he's gone," Brittany said, "I felt him go hours ago. Senor just gathered all the neighborhood cats under a streetlight outside and sung a song about burnt out ends and dying sunflower memories, and I went and sat outside with them and we all looked at the smiling moon and promised each other we all will be happy again."

Kurt blinked. "Jesus Britt," he said, recognizing that she was quoting a song from 'Cats' that Rachel Berry had performed rather dramatically one week, "I do think you're the saddest-happy-person that I know."

"So how did it happen?" Brittany asked, numbly.

"Um," Kurt said, stalling, not knowing if it was his place.

"I can handle it," Brittany insisted.

Kurt sighed. "Santana said that she had only made it half a block outside your house before he looked at the sky, and went stiff in her arms. It was like he was just waiting to say goodbye, and then he waited for that moment to be outside, so he didn't have to go in front of you."

"Where's Santana," Brittany asked, "is she okay?"  
Brittany knew Santana had loved Lord Tubbington more than she had ever let on, and that she had sometimes talked to him when she thought Brittany wasn't listening. The best way to hear Santana's secrets was to leave her alone in a room with Tubs and then listen through the door, although Brittany had stopped doing it when Santana's secrets had become more personal. Sometimes they had even been about her and her 'secret Brittany dreams.'

"She just seemed really angry," Kurt replied, "her mom drove by and pretty much forced her in the car to go to her latest engagement party. They're having it at a resort somewhere upstate. She sent me to tell you. Check your phone, you should have some texts."

Brittany did, and saw she had 11 messages, all from Santana. She blinked. Brittany was usually the one known to send multiple text messages before she got a reply, not Santana. Brittany's own record so far was about 37 messages. She flicked through them, finding they all said the same thing, that Santana was sorry about her cat and that she'd be home in a few days. She called out for Senor, and the younger cat miserably came down from on top of Brittany's wardrobe.

"You're in charge of getting the rats now, brave Senor," Brittany said desperately to the cat, hugging him tightly.  
"Did you ever hear about the Pope that made all the cats die, which killed a third of Europe's population? Rats ran around like crazy spreading the plague, and without the cats around to catch them, they were unstoppable predators. We've now lost fifty percent of the cats in the Pierce family household, and that means we're now about fifty times more likely to die from the plague when the rats come."

"Britts, I don't think that's quite right," Kurt told her, "we haven't had to worry about the plague in a long time."

"Start in the kitchen at Breadstix," Brittany told the cat. "Hunt them there. I used to be pro rats and mice cooking in the kitchen, but not anymore. The stakes are too high. Hurry. And don't let anyone call you Dianne Bollywood like the Pope did."

"That's 'diabolical' Brittany, it just means evil, like Satan-evil, like Santana. That's why the pope killed them off," Kurt joked.

"Santana's not evil, and neither are cats," Brittany snapped at him, angrily.

"Okay, okay, I know," Kurt soothed her. The only time he ever got on with Santana was when they were mildly insulting each other, but he knew he shouldn't have tried to make a joke about that right now.

Brittany shook her head, refusing to be comforted. "Thank you for the flowers, Kurt," she said, "but I'll be okay here by myself."

"Are you sure?" Kurt asked. He knew he really should get home to his dad.

Brittany nodded and curled up in bed with a picture of Lord Tubbington. His face was squished into the shot so all you could see was his eyes and the tip of his nose. She kissed him one more time, and then reached for a photo of Santana and kissed her too. Then, she fell asleep clutching both photos, waiting. She knew that of her two loves that she held in her hands, one would be back as soon as she could be, and the other she knew she would never see again.

* * *

The dark presence followed her, sitting by them at the dinner table, even though nobody else could see him. Nobody looked at him, and nobody spoke to him, and he never once uttered a single word. Once, he lay in bed with her at night, even though Brittany could also see him looking through her window at the same time, or was it his reflection? He often followed her as she brushed her teeth. Then he faded to grey and almost disappeared. He remained in the shadows, unwashed and smelling of human sin. He had a room that he haunted, that Brittany had once entered by mistake when she was playing hide and seek. After that, she always knew where to find him, he would always be in that room, sitting in single chair, facing the window. The room had no other furniture, except a small cupboard in the corner with a duffle bag, and a mattress that was never used. He didn't acknowledge her, nor did she acknowledge him. She was used to him, though that didn't make him any less frightening.

On occasion, Brittany would come into his room and sit with him, or lay on the floor with her head on a cushion under his chair. Sometimes she'd tell him stories. He was a better listener than anyone else she knew. The last time she ever saw him, he grabbed hold of her wrist in an iron grip, instantly leaving bruises, and Brittany screamed, afraid he would drag her to his world, or hell, wherever he came from. Kicking and clawing wildly, she finally broke free and ran. The next time she was brave enough to visit his room, he was gone, without a trace. When she saw him now, she knew she had to be dreaming, or had she been dreaming all along? When she closed her eyes, he would float just above her, the raincloud over her head that wouldn't leave her alone. He was ever present, but never there all at once, and in her dreams they never did anything but stare at each other.

"Britt Britt, wake up," she heard a distant voice call, and then felt the weight of heavy blankets disappear as they were pulled off of her. She shivered, protesting weakly until she felt warm arms slip around her body, spooning her, open palms pressed possessively against her stomach. Stuck in the world of her dream, she pictured the dark shadow again, but knew without a doubt from the heat and her immediate sense that everything was going to be okay now, that this wasn't him that had crawled into bed with her. Not even close.  
She turned inwards towards the source and found the heartbeat, resting her head as close to the sound as she could.  
As soon as her forehead made contact with skin, she heard a gasp.

"You're burning up, Britts," Santana said in alarm. She was wearing a low cut top, and as Brittany's forehead connected with her upper chest, she got the full effect of the fire.

"Mhmm," Brittany answered, cuddling closer.

"Open your eyes, Britt," Santana said sharply, watching Brittany struggle to train unfocused and almost sunken eyes on her.

"Can you sit up?" Santana said, frightened, knowing immediately what was wrong. She knew Brittany so well that it wasn't hard to tell what had obviously happened while Santana had been gone.

Brittany lifted her head up listlessly. She frowned. "I think my head hurts."

"I'll bet," Santana said, exhaling and brushing Brittany's hair back from her forehead. "You scare me to pieces, Britt," she whispered to her, slipping out of her bed and returning moments later with a cup of water.

"Now come on, sit up and drink this. You must have cried a lot. I think you're really dehydrated."

"Who's that?" Brittany asked.

"What's that," Santana corrected. "It means I'm going to be really mad at you later for not taking care of yourself again, but for now we've got more important things to worry about."  
She propped Brittany's head up on a pillow and gave her the cup. Brittany brought it to her mouth and misjudged the angle, managing to spill most of it all over herself. Santana looked on the verge of tears.

"I'm sorry," Brittany told her, biting her lip.

Santana waved her hand dismissively. "It's okay," she muttered and the bed moved with her weight as she stood up again, disappearing into the kitchen.

Brittany could hear her moving things around. She wanted to follow her, but her head felt like it had forgotten how to get up, just as it had obviously forgotten how to hold a cup.

Moments later, Santana came back with a bowl of Jell-O. "Red is your favorite, right Britt?" she said coming to sit beside her, spoon in hand.

"Now open up, and I mean it," she said, although her voice shook too much for it to be much of a threat.

Brittany did, and felt Santana cup under her chin with one hand, spooning Jell-O into her mouth with the other. She swallowed, watching Santana in confusion as the other girl sagged with relief, her shoulders slumping for a moment, before reaching out to give her the second spoonful.

They were halfway through the bowl before Brittany looked more alert and was making eye contact again, and had remembered how to sit up by herself.

"Do you even know how much you scare me," Santana muttered.

"I'm sorry Santana," Brittany repeated, reaching for her hand. "I swear my body just forgets to tell me when to eat sometimes, and when I do remember it's like… not a lot fits inside me at the one time."

"Wanky," Santana said humorlessly, without smiling.

"I didn't mean to scare you," Brittany said.

"I know, Britt, I know you never mean to. I know that with all the cheerleading and the dancing you do, you get underweight, and you barely even remember the three meals let alone extra. But it's not just that, it's everything," Santana said.  
"It's all the constant worrying about you. When I don't hear from you, I never know if you're lost somewhere, or if you've remembered to feed yourself, or if you've picked a fight with someone without even realizing it and you're getting your ass kicked. When its cold out, I can never expect you to come to school with a jacket on, and when it's hot, I find you overheated in too many clothes."

Brittany squeezed her hand. She wasn't sure if another 'sorry' would be any good right about now, even though it was what she wanted to say.

"And yet, somehow, you freaking find ways to take of me," Santana said, getting emotional.  
"Somehow I feel safe with you, because you've got my back, but yet you haven't got your own. I can count on you to save me from pills that had me locked up inside a tiny cage, barely able to remember my own name," Santana said referring to the antidepressants that had been prescribed to her, "but I can't count on you to fucking remember that you need a glass of water."

"You're angry?" Brittany asked her, trying to understand. She knew she did all those things, but she wasn't sure why it would make Santana mad. "Maybe I kind of needed those post-it notes," she admitted.

"Yes! I'm really angry at you. And, I'm scared, and fuck those notes!" Santana said, struggling not to raise her voice to her yelling place. "I know you lost your cat, and I know that's hard, but even when things like that happen, I need you to be better than that, because I can't be here all the time."  
"What if I didn't come back early? We nearly stayed a couple more days. What then?" Santana said, beginning to cry.  
"Sometimes you remind me of a pressed flower, you're so beautiful, but it's almost like you're as fragile as paper."

"San," Brittany said, reaching to cup her cheek, "I'm fine. Come here okay?"  
She pulled Santana into her arms, taking her full weight on top of her. It felt good, and to Brittany it always had. Santana wasn't heavy. Brittany thought she was just the perfect weight to have resting on you that could make you feel not confined, but sheltered. Hating that Santana was crying because of her, Brittany rocked her as she sobbed, and leaned in to kiss her cheek.  
"You know, Kurt was right, we really are the saddest-happy-people on the planet," she said.

"You are," Santana corrected, clutching her shirt. "I'm just the happiest-sad-person. You make me as close to happy as I can get. That's why I don't want to lose you."

"You won't," Brittany said. "I'll try harder," she promised her, looking into Santana's swollen eyes, before laying her chin down on the top of her head and breathing in her scent deeply. Nobody else smelled like Santana, and that totally made it her favorite smell in the whole world.

Santana took in a deep shuddering breath. "So what were you dreaming about, when I came in," she asked.

"Oh, it's nothing," Brittany said, squeezing her, "I have that dream all the time."

"No, tell me," Santana said, lifting herself up a little to see her better.

Brittany was silent for a beat. "San, do you ever feel like your brain wants to remember things, but it can't, so all that comes back are ghosts? Like your brain is a castle, and it has shut out all the dragons, but they're still there, wanting to come back in, and every now and then, they huff and puff a smoke-y shadow of themselves and let it slip into the castle where it haunts you. But then you aren't really even sure what it's a shadow of, because you don't know for sure that the dragons actually exist," Brittany rambled.

"All the time," Santana said, her breath holding.

"As far back as I can remember, I've always dreamed about this man," Brittany admitted. "I think for a while, he was like my imaginary friend and I made him up, but then later on, he became part of my nightmares. I don't know who he is, just that I dream about him always being there in the time before Mom sent me off to live with Granny. I don't know why I'm afraid of him, but sometimes I have to look twice at things, because I feel like he's standing in my room watching me, and then I don't know if I'm still asleep, if it's a memory coming to mind, an imaginary friend, me losing my mind, or all of them at once."

Santana nodded. She wasn't always sure about her own dragons either. Sometimes, in her darkest moments she saw glimpses of violent people that once upon a time may have been real to her, or perhaps not.

"When we were kids I thought I was going crazy, and I still kind of do, except I'm just used to being crazy now. You remember all that time we spent looking for the Unillama?" Brittany asked.

Santana stifled a giggle. "How could I forget, Britt," she said.

"It wasn't always just a game for me," Brittany told her, "it was about the man. I remember him always feeling like a real person to me, because I could walk over and touch him. He'd always be cold and always dirty, but I could touch him, you know? And, he could touch me. By the time I met you, I thought I'd made him up, but then I thought I must be crazy because who else has fantasies that can come to life and seem so real?"

Santana played with Brittany's long fingers, walking them up her arms. _You have such beautiful hands_, she thought.

"So when I met you, I wanted to try and bring a Unillama to life, because if I did that, and if you couldn't see or feel him, then I would know, I would know that I'm just crazy. But I guess you somehow cured me, because no rainbow animals ever came, and the man, whoever he was, never came back except in my dreams," Brittany told her.

Santana was pretty sure her jaw had dropped to the floor. Suddenly a little piece of the Brittany-puzzle had clicked into place, though she still wasn't sure if either of them had the right number of pieces yet.  
"Could he be real, Britts? Someone who really lived with you for a time?" Santana asked.

Brittany shrugged. "You might be right, because most of the time I can tell fantasy from reality now. I have moments when I can picture things that I'm talking about so vividly that it's like I get lost and forget they aren't real. But then after, when all is quiet, I can usually tell the difference. The made up memories are usually in Technicolor, and the real ones much more bland."

_Except you_, Brittany thought, bringing her hand up behind Santana's head. _My memories with you are the brightest and clearest of all, yet they are not in Technicolor. _

"And this strange man? What are the colors like?"

"Black and white," Brittany said, "like an old movie that time is trying to erase."  
She paused. "San, when I said that Lord Tubbington was smoking and making calls to Japan before, I didn't mean it. It was just easier to think it that way, than to think about him dying. Because I knew, San, I knew he was dying the moment I saw him. My brain just needed a break for a little while, so I pictured him on the phone with a guy named Mr Moshimoto, dialing for imported sushi. None of that happened, Santana, I know that. And I know all the cats in my neighborhood didn't go outside and sing 'Memory' from 'Cats' like I told Kurt. I really just cried at home and tried to sort through Tub's sweaters to box them up, but it really sucked, so I pictured a musical number, like we do in Glee, 'cause those always make me feel good."  
"It… it never happened, Santana," Brittany said, as if she thought Santana might have taken her at her word.

"I love your mind Britt, I love that you can go places in your head that the rest of us can't, but sweetie I know that your cat doesn't really do those things. I know all the cool photos we have of Tubs as a gangster were posed, and I know he can't do human things."

Santana took a beat to gather her thoughts.  
"But, right up until now, I wasn't sure that you knew. I wasn't sure that you knew it wasn't real. And, I'm so, so glad you just told me that," Santana said, angling her head to peck Brittany on the lips.

"You always know the difference, between when I'm just daydreaming, and when I'm talking about real stuff, right San?" Brittany asked.

"Always," Santana promised her.

"How?" Brittany asked, confused.

"Because it's like you said, when you say your crazy stuff, I can only picture it the way you'd picture it," Santana laughed, "in bright colors with backing music and anthropomorphic animals, where all the birds come down and land on your outstretched arms. So I guess what I'm saying is, I look for Technicolor too, and that's when I know you're off in your beautiful world."

"Can I ask you sometimes, which one's are real and which one's aren't, if I get a bit stuck?" Brittany asked.

"Anytime," Santana assured her, then rolled off the bed to pull her to her feet.

"Where are we going?" Brittany asked, feeling Santana's arms catch her and hold her upright. She still felt a bit weak.

"Outside, to sing 'Memory' under your streetlight, in our most catlike voices," Santana said, pretending to brush at her whiskers.

Brittany gaped at her.

"I really hate your neighbors," Santana informed her, "I really just want to piss them off as much as possible. They called me a trollop or a tramp or something like that, and they're now in need of having their night ruined."

Brittany held tight to Santana's waist and tried to keep her head from spinning as they walked into the hallway.

"And you're sad," Santana said quietly, "you need to keep your Technicolor world in sight tonight."

"You are so cool," Brittany said, not able to filter her thoughts at all, with the effort of walking at Santana's pace.

Santana's face almost looked pained for a moment before she recovered. "Just never stop dreaming Britts, I know I come down on you hard sometimes, but I just want you to remember to keep me in sight as well."

Brittany nodded, and there was a moment of silence as Santana half carried Brittany down the stairs with great difficulty. "San do you still have to go to Mexico, to stay with your mom's friend?" Brittany asked when they reached the bottom.

"Yeah," Santana made a face. "Mom thinks it will keep me out of trouble over the break. I had Puck over and mom was less than pleased when she heard how many times he'd been in Juvie. At this point, I think she'd be more comfortable with me dating you," she joked.

Hearing the tell tale signs that Santana was joking around, Brittany's face fell, and her heart twisted over. How could Santana be holding her so intimately right now and still think that they were just friends?

"You take care of yourself while I'm gone okay?" Santana said anxiously, taking Brittany's expression to mean she was upset about her leaving.  
"I'll be gone for two weeks, and when I come back I want to see your gorgeous face looking healthy, and I don't want to see a skinny bag of bones."  
_Or worse_, she thought, feeling her heart rate speed up.

They reached the streetlight and crouched down in front of it. _What have I got myself into_, Santana thought amused. _This is insane and we are going to get so many complaints.  
_She grinned, wickedly. _All the more reason to do it then_, she thought. Senor had followed them out, and sure enough three of the other neighborhood cats were following him. Of course this was the universe's way of reminding her that when it came to Brittany, anything was possible.

Brittany steeled herself determinedly. "I'll be okay, San. I promise," she said looking into Santana's eyes, not missing how Santana's eyes grew soft and sweet in that moment, illuminated by the glow of the lamp, and when she fluttered her own eyes shut, she felt a gentle kiss pressed to her neck.

* * *

Brittany almost made it five days before the absence of Santana and Tubs had become too much to bear.  
Senor reminded her a lot of Santana, since they both had the same ethnicity and all, and it had been super comforting to cry into his fur, but in the end, she needed her Granny. After a visit to the vet where Senor had been deemed perfectly healthy and not about to enter old age for several years yet, she had handed him to Kurt to look after.

Then, she had put on a red hood, deciding that she would go live at Granny's until Santana came back from Mexico. All she had was a number and an address that she had stolen from her mom's room, and on the eighth call when nobody had answered, she'd decided that Granny must be hard of hearing these days, and Brittany would just have to come regardless.

Many buses later, and after several wrong turns, Brittany had found the right address. The little house where Granny and Uncle Albert now lived was more or less empty, with most of the possessions removed. From what Brittany could tell by looking in the windows, what was left was haphazardly strewn about in places it shouldn't be. Brittany had never been there before, but she knew that Granny would never allow any house of hers to be in such a state. There had to be something wrong.

Not knowing where to go, she had wandered back to the farm where she had spent her early years. It had been sold just under a year ago when her uncle had ran into debt, and she could tell someone else owned it now, because everything was different. It didn't have as many farm animals anymore, and at the front there was a shop selling imported gifts. It was starting to rain, but she didn't mind. She shielded her eyes, looking between her fingers at the sky.

Brittany pushed the gate open to the pasture and slowly walked in. _Where are all the sheep? _she thought, coming to lie down on the grass, stretching out her arms and legs out to form an X. I'm _here Granny, come find me, x marks the spot_, she thought.

The rain beat down harder and then Brittany couldn't see anything at all. She thought she might go to sleep, she was just so tired and she felt strangely disconnected from her body.

"Hey, you!" a voice called, "little rain girl? What are you doing out in the rain and in our paddock?"  
The man approached her, his shoulders big and burly, the ends of his moustache dripping wet.

Brittany got to her feet quickly and shrank back, afraid. The fabric of her top was fast clinging to her skin and she could feel raindrops collecting at the ends of her hair.

"Hey, come on, I'm not going to yell at you, or even set our bull on you," he told her gruffly. "Speak. Where are you from, why are you here?"

"I'm looking for my granny," Brittany mumbled, only just managing to make her voice carry over the sound of the rain. "She lived here. With all the animals."

"Well you shouldn't go onto other people's property for any reason," he said, "it's trespassing and you could get in a lot of trouble, and I can't imagine why you'd be lying in an open field like that, we're about to get a pretty bad storm and maybe some hail. I'd want to be under cover. You've got the rain boots right, but the rest of you is going to be soaked."

"I'm just looking for my granny," Brittany repeated. "I don't know where she is."

The man peered at her as if suddenly realizing something, placing a hand above his forehead to shield himself for from the rain so he could get a better look at her. "Hey, you're not Audrey's kid are you?"

"Grand-kid," Brittany corrected him shyly.

The man shrugged. "She spoke of you like you were her own. She said she had no daughter, only a granddaughter and it sounded funny to me at first, but I know better than anyone how hard it can be to get along with your family. My name's Ron, by the way. Walk with me, you can try to dry off inside."

"I'm Brittany S. Pierce," Brittany said extending her hand to shake his firmly.

He chuckled at her enthusiasm, then his face turned somber. "I know where your granny is. Everyone knows each other in these parts. She's at Carter's."

"Where's that?" Brittany asked.

"It's like our care facility here. Sort of like where everyone goes when they need assisted living. It's just a few blocks from here," he said pointing in the right direction.

He slapped his knee as if something had just came to him. "Oh, hey, did you get your birthday present? She came in here a couple of months ago, because she'd heard that I got in a shipment of Disney Couture stuff. Funny isn't it, to have an import shop on top of a farm, but what can I say I didn't want to give up a successful established business. I remember she bought a little Tinkerbell necklace for you to celebrate some musical theatre thing you did. Did you like the neckla… hey wait!"

Brittany never let him finish his sentence, taking off and throwing a quick thank you to him over her shoulder as she went, ignoring his calls that she shouldn't be out in the storm. She wasn't sure what had happened to the necklace, maybe her mom had kept it from her. She didn't even care right now.

Fifteen minutes later, she had managed to get by the woman at the front desk of the care home and had done some detective work to find the right room.

"Granny!" she shouted, unable to keep her voice down.

Audrey smiled warmly at her. "Now here's a nice surprise," she said sitting up in bed and pulling the crocheted blanket around herself. "Certainly a nice, but very wet and sodden, surprise."

Brittany beamed, trying not to drip all over the carpet.

"Al, find some way to dry Brittany off will you?" Audrey asked her son.

"Uncle Albert!" Brittany said, delighted to see him there as well. She ran to him and he lifted her a full inch off the ground, in an uncharacteristic display of emotion.

He set her down. "Sure thing mom," he answered, reaching into a cupboard and pulling out a towel and draping it over Brittany's shoulders. He pushed her towards the bed. It had been a long time since he'd seen her and he wanted to talk to her so badly, but he knew she needed to talk to his mom first, it was so important that they got that time together.

"Granny why is your chin shaking?" Brittany asked, forgetting her manners. "My chin shakes like that when I'm sad, are you sad?"

"No my love, I'm not sad," Audrey told her, the effort it took her to speak plain. "I'm just getting very old, that's all."

Brittany remembered why she had come. She moved forward and lay her head in her Granny's lap.

Albert got up intending to move her, but Audrey waved him off over Brittany's head. She didn't care how wet Brittany was, she would never refuse affection from her granddaughter.

"You've come so far darling," Audrey murmured to her, patting her head with shaking hands, remembering the day she had met Brittany and how distressed she had seemed, darting away from her when Audrey had tried to pick her up.  
"Look at you. You make me so proud. Now what did you want to tell me?"

"Lord Tubbington's gone-" Brittany started, before her throat closed up.

"Oh, Britty, he died did he?" Audrey said sympathetically, clasping her hands over Brittany's head. She knew how much Brittany loved that cat, and she could see the pain all over her face at the loss.

"Santana said he was too old," Brittany whispered, "I wish RIP meant return-if-possible."

"Me too," Audrey told her, "but only for your sake."

Confusion flooded Brittany's eyes, and Audrey paused for a moment to find the words to explain what she meant.

"I think Lord Tubbington was ready to go, Britty. When cats are old, and they've had their life, it's not always sad for them to have to die. He lived like a king... or you might even say, a lord. His life was full of love and so many adventures with you. He was your best friend, and that's all you can give a cat. I know that he had no more wishes, except to rest, and that the hardest thing he had to face when it came to dying, was leaving you and not being sure if you'd be okay," Audrey told her.

"He held on so he could say goodbye to me, then he waited until I was out of his sight so I couldn't see him go," Brittany said.

_And I'll do the same,_ Audrey thought, stroking Brittany's hair. _I wish I could have said goodbye to your mom in person, that would be my very last wish, but having you here is more than I hoped for.  
_"I want you to know, I've had a great life too, Brittany, just like your cat," Audrey told her, "there are so many things I've always wanted to tell you."

"I like stories," Brittany said, nodding, missing the heavy undertones of Audrey's words.

Audrey sighed. She wished she had enough energy for a long story. "When I was your age, I never imagined myself as a farmer's wife, but then I met your grandfather. He'd only just immigrated from Holland and for me it was love at first sight. Even when he died, it was like he was still with me. He was the heart of the farm, he was in your uncle Albert, and he was in you. You have his free spirited sense of humor."

"Did Granddad love you back?"

"Oh yes, very much," Audrey said wistfully, "we met on a train, and he forgot where he was going the moment he saw me, and he followed me to my platform. He wouldn't go until I gave him my name, and then once he had it he never left."

Brittany's eyes grew heavy-lidded with enchantment, just as they did when she watched Sleeping Beauty and saw the happily-ever-after at the end.

"How's Santana," Audrey asked knowingly, watching her.

Brittany shrugged. "She's okay, I think."

There was a brief silence. Brittany puffed out her cheeks, breathing hard. It was like if she didn't say something she might burst, she'd never had much of a filter. It was like there was a weight pressing down on her to speak now, because she might never get the chance again.

"Granny, I love Santana like you love Granddad," she blurted out.

Audrey exhaled in relief. She had been watching Brittany's face anxiously and was glad that the issue she was obviously struggling with wasn't something more serious. She'd honestly thought something might really be wrong.  
"I know," she said, "I've had a feeling ever since you were little and sent me that letter telling me about her. You'd drawn her as a superhero, and there were all these lines coming off the picture labeling your favorite things about her. When I read the one pointing to her mouth that said 'when she smiles, she smiles with her whole face' I think I knew."

Brittany exhaled, trying to wind down. She hadn't known how afraid she had been about what Granny might think. Even though Granny had always been so accepting of everything she did, she had still been scared that Granny might think being with Santana was bad, like some people at school did. She'd almost wanted to keep it from her for that reason, but she just couldn't. It wasn't about being brave, it was that she had thought she might explode if she didn't say it right then and there. She had no control at all.

"Hers was the first smile I ever saw," Brittany agreed, feeling Uncle Albert pat her on the back in a show of his support. She felt so lucky that no-one in the room was looking at her any different.

"Yes," Audrey agreed, "but not because nobody had ever smiled at you, it was just hers was the first to pull you out of your own little world enough to see someone properly. I knew that this little girl you were writing about had to be very special, and I knew that you had to love her very much, and that she must love you back. How could that ever not be wonderful?"

"She's never told me she loves me back, Granny."

"Oh, Britty, I'm sure she does, how could she not?" Audrey said, sadly.

"Well there's this guy, his names Puck. Santana spends a lot of time with him."

"Al, can you give us some girl time," Audrey called to her son who retreated quickly, then turned back to Brittany. "Do you think she loves him?"

"I just don't know," Brittany said, confusion playing all over her face. "They seem to laugh a lot, and she doesn't cry when she's with him, but then again they're always smoking stuff together, so maybe it just kind of looks like she's happier with him. She says everything's 'easier' with Puck."

"But she has you," Audrey told her. "And, nobody said any of this was easy," she said echoing the soundtrack to a day now gone by.

Brittany was silent for a time, gathering her thoughts.  
"Sometimes I'm very, very sure that she loves me. On the last day of school, she promised me that we could make out all the time. I had sung her a song from the Little Mermaid about kissing in Glee club, and at first she told me that life sucks, and even when some people want to kiss, they still can't. But then on that day, while the seniors were all saying their goodbyes, she changed her mind."

Audrey couldn't help giving a small chuckle at Brittany's description. _Young love_, she thought. _How I miss it, and how glad I am that I had my share. _

"I've never been surer that she loves me, than I was on that day, Granny. It was the way she followed me and promised me the whole world, like there wasn't anything she wouldn't do for me in that moment. And since then, she's tried so hard, and it's been so much fun. She thinks I like going to the roller rink with her because of the cheese snacks, but it's really because out the back there is this awesome make-out spot where nobody ever goes, and she lets me kiss her until both our faces hurt. At first she was kind of stiff and always looking around for people coming, but she's been getting better all the time."

"I'm so glad," Audrey said sincerely. "What made her change her mind on the last day of school, do you think? Did you say something?"

"No, I actually just left the room, and I think I made her feel bad."

"She was scared you might leave her?"

"No, I think she might have been scared she 'broke' me or something, because she's always talking about not wanting to do that. So she made me promises she couldn't keep," Brittany told her all in one breath.  
"I went home with her that afternoon, and by midnight she was crying her eyes out and she wouldn't tell me why, and in that moment I was even more sure of her love."

"Why is that, Britty?" Audrey questioned, trying to follow Brittany's intense and hurried speech.

"Because I know what she's like now," Brittany said softly. "She takes big leaps forward that she's never ready for, and she takes them all for me. The problem is, the come-down to reality hurts like a bitch."

Brittany covered her mouth. "Sorry Granny."

Audrey swatted at her playfully and could only laugh. Any swear words coming out of Brittany's mouth kind of reminded her of a swearing Pomeranian.

"The first time she kissed me just over a year ago, she wasn't ready for it. She worked herself up into such a state that she couldn't even speak to me for months. This time, she was better, or at least prepared, and she let me hold her through the night."  
"It's those big steps that tell me she loves me, Granny. She wouldn't put herself through that otherwise. She reaches for this place she can't reach, and ends up falling to pieces instead."

"What do you think she's reaching for, my love?"

"Happiness," Brittany told her instantly, "I don't think she wants to be with me unless she feels like she can really be there and feel everything with me. All that stuff she says about worrying she'll ruin me is a lot about… I can't explain it."

"Try," Audrey said, urging her on.

"I guess a relationship is kind of like two candles burning side-by-side. Sometimes they can join up into one big candle when they're having…"

"Fun," Audrey interrupted quickly.

Brittany huffed. "I was only going say sweet lady kisses," she pouted.  
"Oh, and sometimes, they can use some of their fire to make baby candles as well, and then grand-baby candles," Brittany said regarding her grandmother.

Audrey nodded, so far following Brittany's metaphor.

"But when she doesn't realize I'm listening, that's when I understand her best. It's like she's always been afraid that if she gets too close to me, we won't be two candle's burning brightly together. She thinks that she'll just burn me up until there's nothing left, and then I'll be as broken as she thinks she is."

"So at some point in between her following you and telling you she'd changed her mind, and midnight that night, she came back to earth, but then decided to kiss you silly, anyway?"

"It was so different this time," Brittany mused.

"What do you mean, my darling?"

"Usually when she makes me promises she can't keep, they're always promises about her telling me everything's going to be different soon, and I guess she's always talking about herself."  
Brittany paused "It's when she thinks she can't change, and that she can't be the kind of candle she wants to be, that she gets down on herself. That's when she usually takes it out on me and she starts yelling, and saying stuff she doesn't mean to hurt me."

"And she didn't this time?"

"No, we didn't even fight at all, and I think that's really how I know she must love me so much, because at midnight that night while I was holding her together, moments later it was like everything became all about m-me," Brittany said stuttering.

"If I could describe it in words, it would be like she put out her own flame because she thought that would be the best way to keep mine going. I felt like I was watching the light leave her eyes. She told me she was sorry that she 'sucked so bad' but she would still try to make me happy because I deserved that."

_Oh, Santana_, Audrey thought sadly. _You crazy mixed up child. I wish I had time to meet you, and try to help. _

"Ever since then, we've made out all the time. But it's like she's not looking for anything when she does it anymore. She's not trying to find the things she needs. And in some ways, it makes me feel so loved, like she must care so much to want to make me happy, but at the same time, it all feels empty, like she's just doing this for me, and not for herself. And that's when I get confused about love, Granny, I look into her dead eyes and I miss the fire, and I'm not sure if she feels anything, and if she doesn't feel anything, then how can I feel loved?"  
Brittany paused. "What can I do Granny?"

Audrey paused, weighing up what Brittany had said in her tired mind. "Does anything bring her back?"

"Yeah, she really opens up to me when she's sad. When she's upset, I'm always the one she turns to. And when I'm sad, it's like something hits a switch in her and all these feelings for me pour out of her. But when neither of us are sad, it's like she's …she's-"

"Not emotionally available?" Audrey supplied.

"Yes. Her emotions aren't available anymore."

"She only calls me baby when I'm crying, like that's the only time she can bring herself to be that affectionate with me. She's not like that when we're kissing or when we're happy."

"Give her time," Audrey suggested.

"I know," Brittany said, "and I will. It's just I'd give anything for her to smile with her whole face and tell she loves me when I'm smiling too, or for her to tell me how she feels in the most ordinary of moments when we're just breathing. It's just a wish Granny, nothing more, and it's not even that important."

"Oh, of course it's important," Audrey told her. "It's okay to want to connect with her when you're happy as well as when you're sad. That's what all of this is about, isn't it?"

Brittany nodded and wiped at her eyes. She hadn't even realized she'd been crying.

"I'm totally one step ahead of her though," Brittany informed her.

"Of course you are," Audrey said, clasping Brittany's hand tightly, "I should have guessed."

"Kissing is awesome," Brittany said, nodding.

Audrey laughed, gesturing with her hands for her to elaborate.

"Kissing is progress. And out of all the kisses we've had lately, there's been just one where she seemed to forget everything, and I watched the tiniest spark come into her eyes, and in that moment it was just her and me under a streetlight in the dark. I don't even think she realized it, but she was happy."

"Did she smile with her whole face, like in your letter?" Audrey asked.

"Well, no," Brittany said, her face not losing its resolve, "but I knew she could of, and that she was close."

"It was like looking at a flower whose petals haven't opened yet, and wanting to give that flower just a little bit more sunlight. One day she's going to realize that I will never hurt her, and then for the first time she'd going to know what it feels like to feel safe, safe enough to open herself up to be the most beautiful flower in the whole world. Even if we do kiss each other a thousand times without feelings, and then on kiss one-thousand-and-one she looks at me and her petals open, then no matter how many times it hurts to see her so closed off, it will be worth it in the end."

_If I had ever smiled with my whole face, I would be doing it right now_, Audrey thought, knowing that when she passed on, she would think of this very moment, putting it side by side with other moments she would always treasure.

"She thinks she's just doing this for me right now, but when she's a flower, then she'll understand," Brittany told her.

"Do you know what I think, Britty? I think that this Puck guy you mentioned could never stand a chance. I'm so proud of you. I think that one of the nicest things about this past two decades for me, has been getting to see you grow up," Audrey said.

Brittany smiled. "Thank you for all your advice, Granny. You're like Grandmother Willow from Pocahontas. Like a spirit guide."

Audrey coughed. It was time to tell her now. She took her hands and signed the word 'family,' with Brittany's pinky in tow.

Her forehead wrinkling in confusion, Brittany signed it back.

"Soon, I really will be your spirit guide," Audrey told her. "Albert can you come back in here please," she called.

"Are we going to play Pocahontas games," Brittany asked, regressing back into fantasy, as fast as she'd arrived.

Audrey shook her head. "I don't really get out of bed anymore, my love, I get too tired. Today's been one of the good days, but I don't think I'd make it more than a few steps."

"Are you sick?" Brittany asked, alarmed, throwing her body protectively over Audrey's legs, hugging her tightly as if that could fix it. _It couldn't be harder to fix than heartburn_, she thought.

"Yes, darling," Audrey said, looking to Albert for help.

"It's stomach cancer," Albert told her, struggling with his own emotions. "It's in the late stages, there's nothing that can be done."

"I don't know what that is," Brittany said moving to gently wrap her arms around her Granny's stomach instead.

"It doesn't matter," Audrey told her, holding her close. "All that matters is that I got to see you like this," she said into Brittany's hair, squeezing her, "and that you keep going. You take Santana to prom, okay? And you take a picture and you send it to me up in heaven. I love you Brittany."

"I love you, Granny," Brittany sobbed. "I'm sorry I talked about Santana so much. We should have been talking about you, I didn't know you were sick."

"I swear to you Brittany, that this conversation was exactly the one I wanted to have most with you, and right now I feel like the luckiest Granny alive. There's nothing in the world you could have done to make me happier," Audrey said sincerely. Listening to her speak the way she had today made her sure that Brittany was going to be okay now, and with that, she knew she would rest easy.

Brittany kept holding on. She never wanted to let go. She let Audrey push a note into her hand, and her fingers closed around it tightly.

"One last thing. I wrote this because I knew you might have questions about things that happened when you were little. I know your mom will never explain anything to you, so here are the answers, as best that I know. When you're ready to read it, you'll know, and I'll be there waiting as your spirit guide."

* * *

**In this story's timeline, there's only been weeks between the last chapter and this one. In real life, it was actually a few months. I kept it as weeks, because I'm trying to fit with Glee-verse. **

**3 Things: **

**1. I just want you to say that I don't mean to make anyone feel bad for me when I talk about my relationship with my mom, because it really isn't that bad at all. I get ahead of myself and just type out details about it just to be literal, or truthful and when people write that they're affected by it, or it hurts to read it, I never see that coming. I got everything I needed one way or another, even if Santana had to do mom-stuff sometimes. It's Santana that had it so much harder. She only had me, and I got better at it, but in our early years I only knew how to fix even her more serious injuries by covering her with bandaids, and it took a while before we progressed to the hugs and kisses she needed as well. **

**2. I think I might have mentioned it, but all of Brittany's family history is also mine. That note Granny gave me contains quite a bombshell. I'll get to that. Granny didn't live much longer after this, I was lucky to see her when I did. **

**3. I know I've talked a lot about Santana's feelings and about where's she's coming from over the earlier chapters so from that narration and hindsight, as the audience you knew a lot more about what's going on than Brittany actually did at her various ages. But, I think she's just about caught up to Brittany Present, and the two voices are starting to merge in their understanding.  
****It so wasn't easy getting there though, getting to that point of understanding I mean. Brittany has gone through dozens of metaphors in her quest to understand Santana. Some I wrote about were cats and raccoons, broken vases, fireworks, tornadoes, ballet shoes, butterflies, flowers, candles and of course unicorns.  
****I can only think in pictures, not concepts, so if I can't visualize something in my mind then it's just confusing and might as well not exist. So, there has to be a visual metaphor for anything and everything. **

**I didn't actually plan to write about most of the stuff in this chapter, especially not about Lord Tubbington's death. I'm ridiculously obsessed with my cats. "Lord T" was actually a female cat called Ruby (which explains why I talked about "Lord T" being in heat in one chapter), and yes she was fat because I insisted on sharing my dinner with her every night. :P  
****I wrote about her death because my other cat Rori/"Senor" just died. I got her the night Santana lost her virginity like in the story, but she wasn't a Spanish captain. The reason she reminded me of Santana was because she was so angry. I found her in the street and she kind of 'roared' at me to leave her alone (so I named her Princess Aurora), but I dragged her home anyway even though she scratched me to pieces. She was an older cat when I got her, and she did learn to love me after I put a door between us and sung her many, many songs. She became a great, loyal friend, and I miss her a lot. I sang the same songs to her while she died in my lap at the vets and I didn't have over-protective Santana with me this time. I'm not sure if all that emotion made for a good chapter or not, but its where my mind was at, so it all just happened. **

**Oh, and I almost forgot, how is everyone coping after that last Glee episode? I know I cried. Should I maybe be giving everyone longer to recover from it, before posting more chapters? Thinking of your audience is very important. I know that this story can be hard to read sometimes, and I don't want to be posting while everyone is already too sad to read. Just a thought! And thank you for listening. :)**


	19. Murphy's Bitch

**Okay, I'll try to keep my responses short this time so I can catch everyone. :) Actually some of you I have already responded to in PM's already. **

**Puff614 – Thanks for the cyber hug! Sending you one back :) I also figured out that the names right there are clickable and your profile says you have a wife, so this is me having a unicorns-in-love party for you and her. :D I know it's old-news for you, but it's the best new-news for me ever! And I'm celebrating right now with cupcakes. **

**luceroadorada – Aww thank you so much on her behalf :D**

**Tonker – I definitely didn't take it as a bad thing. :) Success is all about describing the human experience well enough to bring about emotions, I think, so thank you very much for what you said. :)**

**hlnwst - Haha, I am blushing so much right now with all those compliments. :) I think it would be impossible to stop writing with that kind of encouragement, you are a fantastic motivator. I'm so glad I managed to write this in an accessible way, because I've been described as a very inaccessible person in the past, and I wanted to learn how to share a story rather than just tell one all in my 'own language.' I have a comment I want to make on being a hopeless romantic, but it will have to wait until the final chapter, but I won't forget! Thanks for making me feel like a really-real writer :) ****PS, I did the 'so here's what you missed on glee,' thing again just for you 'cause you mentioned you liked the last one!**

**gleetan**** – Don't worry, I've decided no hiatus is happening! Thanks for reading :)**

**prattle01 – Sending you hugs for all the sadness of the last chapter. :) You have a page in my diary too, by the way. I drew a little unicorn to represent you, and it has its hoofs out giving super powerful bitch slaps because I can always count on you to deal them out when needed to all the mean people in this story. :) Underneath it in swirls and flowery writing says "You have a way with words that I really really love" and there's lots of other quotes from you there too. Anyway, thanks as always for reading. :) **

**NoPlainJane - Oh wow, I wish I could hear Sherbet's version of your events too. It sounds like he was a witness in the frontline, travelling with you guys, and seeing it all. There's a whole story in that, all from his point of view, I can imagine him as the narrator sounding kind of whimsically protective of you guys. :)  
****I'm really sorry to hear you don't have your Nana anymore, I still miss mine so bad even years later, and thanks for what you said about my cat.  
****I'd love it if we could help each other… I've been trying to figure out how to contact you since it says you don't have an account here. I have the email I signed up for with for this fic which is: theroadtounicorn (then the general at hotmail dot com address, all with no spaces anywhere). I promise I will try to not ask too many questions :)**

**Miara848 – Lol, I will most likely address what's in the mysterious letter next chapter… unless it gets too long and I have to split the whole thing up, 'cause then it will have to be the one after. :) I loved this quote of yours "there's a lot more to the ocean than its name" because if anyone's as deep as the ocean it would have to be Santana. Also, I love, love, love it that you painted a blue rose in art class. That has to be the most awesome thing I've heard all week. *gives you the biggest hug back***

**Kaau3189 – I loved what you said, because I so believe that even though much of this is sad, it's not a sad story, because _all of it_ has brought me to where I am now. Thanks for reading, I'm glad you're here :)**

**harumad**** – I loved when Santana talked to my cats too… she had this side of her that was really fun and sweet and playful, she mostly only used it with me though. I completely agree with you about souls staying with you, and I think even when people are still living but it's like they become different and their soul kind of changes, that former part can live in somebody who loved them as they were, just as long as that person can still remember. Thank you for always making time to review even though I know you're busy because I always love hearing what you think :) **

**xoxo – So glad to see you back and hopefully mostly recovered from the Glee drama! I agree, so much did happen in chapter 17… and I think it ended up being about 20k so really it was like 3-4 chapters in one. Thanks so much for making it all the way through and for sharing your thoughts! **

* * *

_So here's what you missed on Glee. _

_Whew! They don't pay me enough to try and sum this up. There's been really great times, and really sad times, and sometimes both at once. Even if it hasn't seemed like it, Santana and Brittany have made tiny steps of progress together the whole way, and that's accounting for all the leaps and the falls. It seems funny to think back to the earlier days now, and remember how unresponsive Brittany used to be, and how badly she used to be at expressing herself. Hey, at least she actually talks now! The confronting situations that come with loving Santana have really forced her to grow up, because if she stayed the same and never learned how to understand and care for Santana, she may well have been left behind. _

_And, even though Santana is still defensive, she has come a long way in learning how to be there for Brittany, and now places more importance on that than she ever has before. That's been good for her, it has made her softer and in her worst moments it has helped her find something to live for, and is something she has always taken pride in. _

_Those two became kind of sexual too. Wow. I know I'm just the narrator guy, but I know I need a cold shower. It was inevitable, I guess. It's pretty obvious that Brittany wants to help Santana, and recognizes that she can help her in ways other people seem to not have the power to help. She wants to help so bad that I think she'd do almost anything, and I guess 'trying harder' often leads to crossing new boundaries physical or otherwise. I guess Brittany thinks that if only she could show Santana that level of dedication, it will make all the difference. Just one more thing might finally make them connect on that level so she can reach her, and Santana might get better. Brittany's trying not to lose herself in the process, but it's possible she never really had herself to begin with. She's never really focused on herself, just on Santana. __Also, may the fat cat rest in peace._

_And that's what you missed, on Glee!_

* * *

**Chapter 19 – Murphy's Bitch**

**Brittany S. Pierce, Present.**

Kesha is a cultural icon. We all want to do her music justice.

One of her most inspiring messages is that We R who we R.

So who R we? I'd like to just call us unicorn superstars, but it's hard to always feel like that. All people have many sides, some almost too hard for us to admit are really part of us.

Santana had the angry raging version of herself, and I had Autistic-Brittany, and in the days when these sides of us came out, we did not feel like superstars at all.

Miss Pillsbury went as far as to say that both Santana and I had a tendency to 'dissociate,' which is just a fancy way of saying we often detached from ourselves and our surroundings.

That's how Snix was born, and it also explained my lapsing into fantasies to escape.

Everyone dissociates. When you lose track of the world outside of what you're doing, like if you sit for hours writing an assignment not noticing the time going by - that's dissociation.  
Usually while driving, most people naturally dissociate, because while you still remain in control of the vehicle, you might be seeing other things in your head that aren't really there. You might be picturing someone you love, or that pair of shoes you need, or perhaps the going through the bills you have to pay this week.

Everyone does it, but there's still a line that can't be crossed, at least not if you want to keep your grip on reality.

When I found the world too scary, I'd leave it, seeing what could be classed as other worlds in my mind, where cats could read diaries, where god might be an evil dwarf and where time machine's exist. Often, I would be a completely different person in those worlds.  
It was a lot about distracting myself, and trying out different identities so I didn't have to be autistic.

Santana did the same thing with Snix, insisting that she became another person entirely when she was angry. She had a dark side, and a lot of anger over how she'd been treated in life, but not really an acceptance for this anger. She would get angry, and then she would be cruel to other people, and she would always think that this made her a bad person. So, she invented Snix, a separate and distant side of her who could take all the blame for it all, so that Santana could save face.

We were both running away from ourselves, both not really able to be complete as people, while our identities were split in two.

We were more alike than we ever thought.

* * *

**Brittany S. Pierce, age 17.**

**(S)- I'm coming home soon, Britt! My plane just landed. I've just got something to do first. PS. Missing you like crazy - Santana**

**(B)- OMG aweekearly? socntwt2cu! Gonnagveuthebggsthg! - B**

**(S)- Okay, yeah, Britt, you must be excited. You only text speak me like that when you have happy fingers. **

**(B)- Sorry, it's just that I've missed you so bad, I've got so much to tell you. How was your flight? **

**(S)- I hate flying -_-**

**(B) -Aww, I know. Poor San, I'm gonna give you an even bigger hug now. Did you catch a snake? **

**(S) -No Britt, unfortunately there aren't snakes on all the planes. But I specifically requested one of those in-flight coloring-in books for you. **

**(B) -The one where you can color-in the boy barfing into his sick bag rainbow colors? **

**(S) -Yep. The flight attendant totally stared at me the wrong way when I asked for it too. **

**(B) -Is she dead?**

**(S) -Nope. She got lucky.**

…

**(S) -Britts, why'd you stop texting :(**

**(B) -Oh, I didn't hear my phone go off 'cause I'm eating cheetos. I just recorded the sound of me eating them on webcam to see if it's just as loud outside my mouth. It's totally louder. Or my speakers are up too loud. Call me and you can listen! **

**(S) -That's very tempting Britt, but I think they're about to call my name to go in here. **

**(B) -That's okay. I finished the packet anyway. :(**

**(S) -You're okay right? You've been eating?**

**(B) -Yep! And I've even been cooking. I'm awesome. Even the fire alarm cheered me on!**

**(S) -Oh my god Britt, are you okay? **

**(B) -I'm great! My dinner and me are smokin' **

**(S) -I think I just saw a clever little play on language there. **

**(B) -I am the master of the English language now… sort of. Hey, how was your mom's friend, was she nice?**

**(S) -She drove me insane. She kept wanting me to call her 'auntie' and she kept coming in and leaving my door open when I was trying to pretend that she didn't exist. Her family was kind of mean as well :( **

**(B) -Well, I hope they all stand on a Lego in the dark.**

**(S) -You would say that Britt. And I'll take it, because coming from you that's some hulk-like aggression right there. **

**(B) -Just defending your honor… and you left them alive right?**

**(S) -You honestly think I'm that homicidal? And unfortunately, yes they will live another day.**

**(B) -You can be the hulk, and I'll be your hulk-ette. You're gonna explode through your clothes. **

**(S) -Just… wanky. **

**(B) -I've missed you so much, San. **

**(S) -Britts, you keep that feeling okay, and promise you won't be too mad when you see me? **

**(B) -Why would I be mad? – B **

…

**(B) -Why would I be mad? Did you do something?**

…

**(B) -San? **

…

**(B) -San, I'm watching Despicable Me, you have to watch this. There's this great song. Hang on, I'll text you the lyrics. **

**Unicorns I love them, unicorns I love them. Uni-unicorns I love them!**

…

**(B) -San? did you like the song? Do you want to hear the Purple People Eater song now?**

-…

**(B) -I'm getting really worried. Where are you? - B **

**(S) -Britt Britt? I can't see my feet. Do I have feet?**

Brittany looked up from her phone. When Santana started acting like her, it was always cause for alarm. She tapped out a message quickly.

**(B) -Where are you? – B**

**(Q) -Hi Brittany, this is Quinn on Santana's phone. You need to get to her house, right now. **

* * *

"You know what? Brittany is the least of your worries, Santana," Quinn said throwing open the car door to Santana's side.

"What about what Coach Sue is going to say And, of course Brittany's going to notice, especially considering how _close_ you both seem to each other," Quinn yelled, struggling to keep her anger under control before she said something she'd regret.

"What would you know?" Santana tried to yell back, but found that her loudest was hardly loud. Her throat was scratchy and dry. Yelling, (or as close as she got to it) somehow strained her chest and pulled everything tighter, and while it didn't hurt all that bad, it didn't exactly feel good.  
She hid her face in her hands. Was Quinn still driving or was her head still spinning?

"Maybe Brittany will just think I'm sick," she said softly, knowing as soon as she said it, that that would never be the case.  
She looked down. Her chest was so swollen. _Will it get better, or will it always look like this,_ she wondered.

Quinn gave her an exasperated look. Brittany wasn't bright, but no-one could miss that rack.

"They look amazing anyway, I knew it would be worth it," Santana mumbled as defiantly as she could.

"Yeah, totes amazeballs, Lady Ta-ta," Quinn drawled sarcastically.

Too involved in their argument, neither Quinn nor Santana heard the hurried pattering footsteps Brittany made running up the path.

"Hi Quinn," Brittany said noticing her first, then puffing and bending double. "That's a record," she said, "that's the least number of steps I've taken to get to Santana's place yet!"  
She had run all the way from her house to Santana's, but even miles away she had seen Quinn standing beside her parked car, yelling at it furiously. "Why are you so angry at your car?" she asked.

Quinn turned towards her, gesturing to Santana in the back seat.

A smile split Brittany's face in half. "Santana!" she exclaimed, and stepped back, poised for a hug-attack. _We can do that thing where we roll around in the backseat again, _Brittany thought joyfully. She paused.  
_Well, maybe we can, if only we can get rid of Quinn. Maybe we could convince her she really needs to pee. That would be enough time for a proper hello, _Brittany thought. _Quinn takes ages in the bathroom, not on the peeing part, but whenever she walks past a mirror she gets her face stuck in it for at least fifteen minutes. I don't know what she's looking at, but she always looks so sad._

Watching Brittany shift in a catlike pose that reminded her of a feline about to pounce, Quinn reached over quickly and held her back. "Wait Brittany, you have to be careful," she said, not unkindly, tightening her grip on her arm.

Brittany looked at her, willing her to explain why. Quinn had been nicer to her ever since she'd gotten pregnant, and especially since she'd had her baby and had become obsessed with mirrors. Maybe she thought having a baby made her not pretty?

"You're really pretty Quinn," Brittany told her honestly.

_Where did that come from? _Quinn thought confused. Brittany always confused the hell out of her; she was like putting together a puzzle without seeing the picture on the box. She looked at Brittany's irritatingly sincere face, and noticed for what seemed like the tenth time lately, that the sight of her didn't make her want to slap her nearly as much it had used to.

The realization always hit her square in her own face. She had spent so long hating Brittany, and not really knowing why. If she had to guess, she'd probably put It down to the fact that she had always hated the way Brittany could get away with things and people would just shrug and say 'yeah, that's just Brittany.'  
_But_ i_f I do anything out of the ordinary, people gasp like a dying fish_, she thought. Why did Brittany get excuses made for her when Quinn herself was always condemned?

After she got pregnant, she'd wanted to hate her more than ever, but she couldn't. If anything, she now felt strangely maternal, even protective, towards the girl, like they were no longer that different. Brittany hadn't cared that was pregnant, and had talked about it like it was the most ordinary thing in the world, which had earned her some odd stares from other people. Yes, she had definitely asked way too many personal questions, but in a way, having Brittany sit by her and stare at her until Quinn let her feel where the baby's feet were again and again, had made her feel both normal and special all at once.

_I guess there's something about walking around with a baby bump advertising 'I am a teen rebel' that is so freeing. Sometimes I just kind of want to dye my hair pink and wear black and just not give a fuck_, Quinn thought. Brittany didn't seem to know how to be anything but 'free' and Quinn was beginning to wish she hadn't bullied her so much for that. _Now, when I look at her, maybe I don't want to slap her anymore, but I still kind of want to push her and then maybe..._ Quinn couldn't finish the thought.

Quinn kept her hand on Brittany's arm, seeing she was still ready to spring onto Santana at any moment. Taking Santana's whole form in, Brittany's eyes grew wide.

"Woah, baby!" Brittany exclaimed, shooting glances back and forward to Quinn and Santana, and then pointing at Santana's chest. "Did you finally cash in?" she blurted out, looking down at her own chest and finding her boobs still there. She shook her head to clear it. No, that wasn't possible. A child's cheque willing one's bodyparts to another did not give boobs the ability to teleport. She breathed in and out, trying to get back her grasp on reality, her eyes still goggling.

"Quinn?" she asked, when Santana said nothing, her head still buried in her hands.

"Santana, get out of my car now," Quinn said, "we're here, we're not driving anymore."

"Santana looks like Katy Perry in that video I saw the other day," Brittany said to herself, unaware that no one was listening to her. "She also needs the blue hair and those daisy dukes, bikini's on top."

"We are so still driving," Santana said pouting, clutching at her head as if to keep it steady, "and you're still driving over ever single hole in the road you can find, and you're making my head spin."

"Ohh ahh ohh ahhh ohh ahh ohhhh," Brittany sung the tune to California girls, literally dancing to the beat of her own drum.

"We've been parked for ages, and for your information I avoided every hole in the road and crawled over every speed bump, which made me drive slower than even Puck does when he's circling round the Cheerios at practice, hoping to see some skin," Quinn said angrily. "As pissed off with you as I am, I was so not having you throw up in my car."

At the mention of being sick, a moan escaped Santana's throat. She felt like her stomach was still turning around and tumbling over itself, like it was watching a workout video. How were they not driving when she felt this bad?

Brittany snapped out of her musical interlude and turned her attention quickly to Santana. "San? What's wrong," she asked worriedly.

"Nothing's wrong," Santana snapped, not seeing Brittany's hurt expression.

Quinn sighed dramatically. "She just had a type of surgery," Quinn told her, ignoring Santana's various attempts at making threatening gestures, all of which somehow only managing to make her look more vulnerable.

"It's not a costume?" Brittany asked.

"No. You remember when I had surgery on my stomach, when I had Beth?" Quinn asked, thinking of her cesarean.

Brittany nodded. She remembered the Glee club sitting somberly backstage at Regionals waiting for news from Mercedes, who was passing on the latest as soon as it happened. Brittany had sat at Santana's feet, her head in her lap as the dark haired girl had explained the workings of it to her, how you had to cut open a person to take out the smaller person, and then get stitched up and healed. The healing had taken a while and there had been risks to Quinn's health.

Brittany had sat in the room backstage looking down at her own stomach and touching it gingerly, until Santana had finally looked up from the magazine she was reading to ask if she was okay. She had looked like she might pass out when Brittany had then informed her that she would totally carry their baby so she didn't have to.

Brittany let her mind wander now, to a place where the surgery Santana had just had could have been just like Quinn's. She pictured the baby she and Santana would have had, wishing that it would have all of Santana's features rather than her own, so she could have a tiny Santana and a big one all to herself, even if they were both just as grumpy as each other.

_Except that's not possible,_ Brittany reminded herself. _Unless of course Santana was part Whiptail Lizard._

The Whiptails were an all female species, there weren't any males at all.

"Are you like a lizard, San?" Brittany asked hopefully, craning her neck to see if there really was a mini-Santana in the car.

Santana made an uncoordinated beheading motion on her own neck at Quinn, seeing that Brittany's mind had now wandered off, and clearly Quinn was to blame for it.

"Well it's like that," Quinn continued, ignoring her and unconsciously brushing her hand over her scar. "Except she did it on her boobs, and it's nothing like what I went through, because she put silicon implants in there, instead of taking … something that needed to be taken out."  
She paused. "And, Coach Sylvester is going to freak."  
Quinn turned to Santana. "I guess you're just dying to be stuck on the bottom of the pyramid. It makes sense now I guess, because with all that extra weight, you're totally now the heaviest." She couldn't help sending another glare into her direction.

It was Brittany's turn to restrain Quinn then, clamping a hand firmly on her arm, not seeing the goose bumps that immediately pricked up.

"You're such a bitch…," Santana complained, weakly. Maybe it was better to tell Brittany straight up with all the facts like this, but logic so wasn't cooperating with her right now.

"Surgery? Implants? But why?" Brittany asked as if Quinn knew all the answers. I _never got to say goodbye to Lilo and Stitch_, she thought unhappily, wondering what she would name Santana's new boobs. She thought wistfully of all the pretty outfits Santana had worn over the years with them, unable to cope with the sudden change. She felt like she had turned her back for two seconds, and a part of Santana had become different. _Goodbye Lilo, goodbye Stitch. _

"Beats the hell out of me," Quinn growled. "Now can you get her out of my car, because I've done my part, I dropped her home, and now I really have to go." She tossed a bag full of drugs in Brittany's direction. "Here's her prescription, she's going to be in pain for a while," Quinn said, unable to mask the concern in her voice.

"Pain?" Brittany asked, paling as it hit her. This was serious. Pain meant that Santana had deliberately hurt herself again. This whole 'implants' thing was so confusing.

Quinn found herself desperately needing to put much distance between herself and the two of them right then. She couldn't look at Santana right now, and Brittany's little lost Bambi expression was wearing her patience thin. _Thank god for Brittany though_, Quinn thought. If she hadn't come, Quinn knew she would have had to stay.

"Come on San, I'll carry you inside," Brittany said reaching out to her and unbuckling her seatbelt.

Santana breathed a sigh of relief, the belt had been cutting into her stomach, making her feel worse. Without it, the nausea began to subside.

"I wouldn't do that," Quinn said quietly, "don't pick her up. I wouldn't hug her either, you could hurt her. Be very careful."

Brittany's hands flew to her sides as if they had become dangerous things and she whimpered.

"Ugh, stop it Quinn," Santana said, seeming to wake up from a trance at Brittany's cry. "I'm fine. Okay, I'm coming out."

She attempted to get out, and felt Quinn's hand come to rest on her back helping her stand, and she figured the hands accidently sliding lower past normal boundaries in their effort to help were Brittany's.

Quinn was speaking to Brittany in a low voice. "She'll be a nightmare when the anesthesia wears off and I don't envy you. Give her pills for the pain. Don't let her lift her arms up, in fact don't let her do anything. She needs to keep her chest taped up and she can't shower. I'll get someone to cover for you with your mom, so if your mom calls your cell, you're staying with Mercedes. I'll say you're doing Christian stuff together, I'm good at sorting out moms," she assured her.

Brittany nodded earnestly, but Quinn could see her eyes were glassy and preoccupied so she simplified things.

"Look Brittany, one pill after Ellen and then…-"

"We were gonna watch DVDs," Brittany interrupted.

"Okay so whenever you get to putting a new disk in, you give Santana another pill, got it?"

"Got it," Brittany agreed.

"I don't need pills," Santana grumbled.

"Oh that's just like you isn't it," Quinn shot back, "you won't take them when you need them, you only take them when you don't. You're impossible."

"Yeah? Well you're a freaking psycho," Santana glared, unable to think of a better response than that, "and you drive like one too."

Quinn didn't take the bait. "Feel better Santana," she said.

"Already do," Santana said, kicking at something invisible in the dirt.

"Come on you grouch," Brittany said, putting her arm around her and waving goodbye to Quinn with her other hand. "You wake up under the bed this morning?"

"That's on the _wrong_ _side_ of the bed, Britt," Santana said softening now they were alone.

"Well I wake up under the bed sometimes and then I never have good days after that."

"That's because you sleepwalk, and somehow after you've made some kind of weird concoction of food in the kitchen, you head straight for under your bed," Santana said, staggering a bit over some uneven ground. She'd had more than enough sleepovers with Brittany to notice the Cooking a la Brittany show she put on while asleep, and then the eventual under-the-bed retreat.

"Well, last time I woke up under there, I had been dreaming that all these birds were flinging themselves against my window really hard and then they like bounced off and went poof into thin air. Disaster!" Brittany shuddered at the thought. "You would have ducked for cover too."

"Aww, Britt," Santana said, leaning on her shoulder heavily, "was it one of those hell on earth, end of the world dreams with like acid rain and then everything in the sky crashing down and dying?" _I have them all the time,_ she added in her head.

"Nope, worse."

Santana raised an eyebrow.

"God was playing angry birds," Brittany told her. "He thought I was an evil pig. I had to check I wasn't. It was confusing. I woke up under my bed, holding a gummy bear Sandwich with Lord…-" Brittany trailed off. "Well the sandwich tasted good that time."

"How is that worse Britt?"

"God mistook me for an evil pig," Brittany repeated pointedly,

"Oh, Brittany, you and your obsession with watching me play Angry Birds is really starting to take over your life in these strange little ways."

Brittany giggled. "You miss hitting the pigs, then you get even angrier than the birds, it's so funny to watch."

"Well, I'm glad my rage amuses you," Santana said in an almost scathing tone.

"Aww, San, you know what I mean," Brittany said frowning, worried that she'd offended her.

Santana exhaled. She hadn't meant to upset her. She tried to smile. "Maybe you're right Britt Britt. I guess I woke up on the wrong side of the operating table before. It was so fucking cold in that room, like it was a freezer. I can't seem to get warm even now," she muttered.

Brittany searched her face trying to decide what to do next. "There's no TV in your room San, so I'm going to make a fort in the den, while you get warm and sleep for a while. Then when it's built, I'll let you over the moat past Senor S, the dragon, 'cause I'll get Kurt to bring him over here. It's going to be the biggest and best pillow fort ever and I'm going to steal all the mattresses from the spare rooms," she told her. "And then, we can take it over and move in, and not let anyone else in, ever."

Santana shrugged. She was kind of tired, and her brain was still fuzzy from being put under. She let Brittany lead her to her room and help her lie down. Brittany covered her in blankets, and Santana sighed contentedly, then pushed away the bottle of pills Brittany handed her. "Don't listen to Quinn. I'm fine," she said, unused to having to sleep on her back, instead of on her side.  
_This wasn't a big deal._  
She said it out loud. "This isn't a big deal, Brittany. I'm fine, and this is what I wanted to do with my body."

Brittany nodded, wondering if she was serious, or in heavy denial. Whichever the case, she couldn't force her to take the pills if she didn't want to. She hoped she'd change her mind later. For some reason Santana wanted to make a huge show of being fine, and obviously she thought that if she refused pills, there was no better convincing argument, since she usually took so many others on a day to day basis when she wasn't fine.

Sitting beside her, Brittany was unsure whether or not she could hold her hand, but she didn't have to wonder long. Within seconds, Santana had already fallen into a deep sleep, breathing heavily.

"It's not a big deal, just like everything else that's ever happened to you right?" she said to Santana's sleeping form softly, before standing up and turning away.

Maybe after their time apart she had wanted them to have a big reunion where they kind of ran to each other in slow motion, fitting together like two halves of a whole, but she was almost used to things never seeming to work out like she wanted them to work out now.

Besides, she had a fortress to build.

_And, maybe a shrine to Lilo and Stitch, but that one could wait_, she mused. She didn't want Santana to think she didn't like her new body, because that wasn't even true. Santana was still beautiful, just different. It was like Brittany hadn't met a part of her yet, and she liked to know all of the pieces of Santana. She missed Stitch the most. It had jumped around a little more than Lilo and had more personality. And why hadn't Santana told her she was getting surgery done? Had she told Quinn beforehand?

Brittany shrugged. She couldn't let it matter right now, she had to push those thoughts aside to make sure Santana was okay.

* * *

After dragging several mattresses down, and making a floor and three walls, Brittany decided against a roof, because if they had a roof, how could they pretend to see the stars? She brought as many pillows down as she could carry, scattering them inside her creation. Now that she was a professional builder, she totally needed to have her buttcrack showing to look the part, except her clothes weren't cooperating.

She ran back upstairs to tell Santana was done. When she entered the room, Santana's eyes were wide open, but they were confused and hazy as if she couldn't remember how she had got here. Her face was contorted in pain, yet confused as if she didn't understand why everything hurt. She raised her arms to touch her own face as if that might provide her answers, and cried out when she felt something in her body pull, like a puppet strung too tight.

"Put your hands down, Santana," Brittany told her, standing in the doorway. Quinn had specifically told her not to let Santana do that.

Just seeing her brought back every detail of the past twenty four hours to Santana's mind. She remembered getting off the plane and going straight to the clinic. She could still see her shaking hands flipping through brochures she really wasn't interested in, and then throwing them all aside to text Brittany about anything she could think of to distract herself. She had then been called in. And then nothing. After that she had so suddenly been in the freezing cold post-operating room, Quinn's car, and now here. Her body felt bruised and broken.

Santana turned her head and locked eyes with her. She knew they were both thinking the same thing.

_Why did I do this?_

_Why did you do this? _

Tensing, Santana became frightened that she could never explain to her why she had made this choice. It wasn't just the surgery, she was always afraid that she could never explain to Brittany why she made the choices she made and kept making. She could never even explain them to herself, let alone Brittany. Sometimes, it felt like a completely different person had made them.

"You need to take one of these pills, San," Brittany told her, approaching her slowly as if she wasn't sure how she'd react.

Santana panicked. She wanted to explain herself, and unable to say what she wanted, she panicked more, her capabilities of self expression reduced to nothing but hysterical tears.

Brittany immediately moved closer, trying to find some part of her to hold that wasn't sore, and Santana roughly batted her hands away.

"Don't touch me," Santana sobbed, "no, no, no, no."

"San, just let me make you more comfortable okay? And I'll bring you some cookies or something, because you're supposed to take pills with food. You told me that, and you always give good advice."

"Just go away, Brittany," Santana wheezed, trying to swallow down her cries and the dryness in her throat all at once. "I'm fine."

Brittany shook her head. She hadn't always known better, but she did now. Go away in Santana language always meant _don't leave me._

Sensing that Brittany saw through her, only made Santana more agitated.

"You like Quinn more than me," she gasped. It had just slipped out and she hadn't even known she had been thinking it, or where it had come from.

Brittany almost choked on the gum she was chewing. "What?" she asked.

"It's nothing," Santana said closing her eyes in pain. "Just leave."

Brittany sighed, trying to stay calm and not be buried in all the tension of the room. Santana was so frustrating when she was like this. She always put up her biggest wall when she really needed to lower her defenses and rely on someone else. Once they were past that one really big wall, everything would be okay.

_She's clearly out of her right mind with pain_, Brittany thought, taking in her tight tense muscles and shaking hands. She knew Santana wouldn't be able to keep her wall up forever. She would crack, and when she did, Brittany would be there.

She always came to her when she was sad, even if it took a while. That was what she had spent so long talking to Granny about. Sharing pain was hard, but sharing happiness was harder still. _She'll come around_, Brittany thought, _she always does._

She moved a chair closer to Santana's bed and sat down_. I just have to wait her out,_ Brittany thought, _until she realizes she has no choice but to accept my help._

* * *

Nearly an hour later, Santana's hysterical cries had turned finally turned into quiet sobs. Twenty minutes after that they had become even quieter sniffling sounds which had since tapered off. She seemed exhausted. Brittany's eyes roamed over her body. She was still now, holding herself in a way that suggested she was afraid to move even an inch, for fear of more sharp, stabbing pains. Brittany knew she was close.

"I'm really close tonight, and I feel like I'm moving inside her," Brittany sung, breaking the silence. "Lying in the dark."

Santana's head turned slowly to face her. Her red eyes were almost swollen shut. The tear tracks and the oversized shirt made her look younger than she was. Brittany ached to hold her and try to kiss her better.

"And I think that I'm beginning to know her. Let it go. I'll be there when you call," she continued, feeling every word ring true. When Santana was sad, and that one big wall finally came down, that was when Brittany _really_ saw her. When she was happy she had so far remained so guarded, but when she cried, Brittany felt like she could see every inch of her. Santana kept claiming that she didn't have a happy side to see, but Brittany disagreed. She knew it was there, it was just a side that Brittany only knew distantly, while Santana wasn't aware of its presence at all.

"And whenever I fall at your feet, you let your tears rain down on me. Whenever I touch your slow turning pain," Brittany sung, coming to kneel by the bed, eye level with her, her fingers creeping just shy of Santana's hand.

"You're hiding from me now. There's something in the way that you're talking, words don't sound right. But I hear them all moving inside you. Go, I'll be waiting when you call." Brittany stopped when Santana closed her eyes. Was she making all this worse? Should she have given her more time? Was Santana trying to block her out because she wasn't sounding all that good?

When she didn't immediately continue, Santana's tired eyes opened again, as if to say 'why did you stop?'

Brittany smiled and kept going. "And whenever I fall at your feet. You let your tears rain down on me. Whenever I touch your slow turning pain."

Brittany stretched her hand out as if to touch Santana, curling her fingers over midair.

A soft breeze blew a lock of Santana's hair over her face. Brittany unclenched her fingers and reached out the extra distance and hesitantly brushed it back, keeping her hand there when Santana didn't pull away.  
She brushed her thumb over her cheek, feeling the wetness of her tears soak into her fingers as Santana leaned into her touch, the movement subtle and almost unconscious.

"The finger of blame has turned upon itself, and I'm more than willing to offer myself, do you want my presence or need my help. Who knows where that might lead?"  
_Who knows where that might lead?_ Brittany thought. _That's what I told Granny. If I can only get you to trust me completely when you're sad, you might trust me to let me make you happy._

"Whenever I fall at your feet. You let your tears rain down on me. Whenever I fall. Whenever I fall," Brittany trailed off, weaving her fingers through Santana's hair one last time and drawing the last of the moisture off her face with her other hand.

Rising up slowly to stand up, Brittany went to sit back at her chair, facing away from her. Another ten minutes went by before she heard Santana say her name so hesitantly, her voice cracking on the last syllable

Brittany was at her side in an instant. "I'm right here," she promised her, clasping one of her hands between her own. "Let's get you downstairs."

* * *

"I feel like shit that just rolled over…and then walked down the street getting run over by a passing truck, and then walked right into a cafe and bought a bagel but then ran into the automatic door…- "

"And then stood on a Lego and then kicked its little toe on the edge of the couch, and then got its man bits stuck in a zipper?" Brittany added, her voice climbing higher at the end to phrase it as a question.

"Something like that," Santana agreed.

"That sounds almost like a movie, but definitely not one I want to see." Brittany paused. "Can I undress you?"

"I'm not even gonna say it." Santana's mouth twitched up slowly at the corners in an attempt to smile. Brittany almost never saw the sexual connotations of things until long after she had spoken.

"I will. Wanky!" Brittany said bouncing on her heels, filling up a bowl with warm water.

"How did you make that so completely fucking adorable?" Santana said, poking her in the ribs, her attempt at a smile, almost becoming a real one.  
"And the answer is yes," she told her dropping her eyes down slightly with embarrassment, and leaning against the sink.

Brittany went for the t-shirt first, carefully slipping it over Santana's head. She then unbuttoned Santana's shorts and then slowly pulled them down. "Are the drugs kicking in yet?" she asked.

"Yeah," Santana said, sitting down and resting her head against the back of the chair. "They make me sleepy and wired all at once. Except I don't want to sleep anymore. And I feel gross."  
Santana had slept for almost two days while Brittany had played guardian angel, watching over her day and night. She was well and truly sick of sleeping now, and even more sick of the fact that she couldn't shower and wash away the lingering smell of surgery. Maybe it was only imaginary, but she hated it all the same.

"You'll feel better after I've cleaned you up a bit," Brittany promised her.

Santana frowned. "You shouldn't have to do this."

"I want to, you're my…-" Brittany started. _Friend… best friend… lover, partner, soulmate… my whole world, _she thought, going over the options.  
"I want to… you're my Santana," Brittany finished, shrugging.

Santana's eyes clouded over slightly.

"Lean back as far as you can," Brittany told her, freeing all of her hair that was trapped behind her, so it now flowed over the back of the chair. "I'll do your hair first."

"This is embarrassing," Santana muttered, clearly feeling humiliated as she let Brittany carefully untangle her hair, the blonde resting her hand on her forehead so no water would go in Santana's eyes while she squeezed the sponge over her head.

"No honey, it's fine," Brittany reassured her, combing her fingers all the way through. Santana had such beautiful hair. It was thick and coarse, like a lion's mane, not soft but thin like Brittany's own. Santana had once told her that her hair was as soft as baby hair, and Brittany had been quick to correct her and say 'adult baby' unlike a regular one.  
"Did you know Lion's can have sex fifty times a day?" she asked, patting Santana's hair again.

Santana blinked, and the tension in her body eased a bit as she wondered why Brittany went there. "No… I didn't actually know that, Britt. You run out of cat facts and have to study lions?"

"Yep," Brittany agreed, lathering some shampoo in her hands and rubbing them over Santana's head. She combed her fingers through a couple more times, trying to get her to relax.

"Fuck her yet?" Santana muttered, starting the quoting game they always played, making an attempt to stop feeling so awkward about the situation.

"Working on it," Brittany answered cheerfully. Ever since they had first watched the movie _Cruel Intentions_, Santana would always quote the phonecall scene, usually doing it in the most inappropriate of times and always expecting Brittany to join in.

"Loser," Santana continued.

"Blow me!" Brittany said, concluding her part. She had no doubt that Santana only ever did this, to hear her say that.

Santana cracked a smile. "Call me later," she said, finishing the last line.

"You wanna watch Cruel Intentions when we're done here?" Brittany asked. It was pretty much Santana's all time favorite movie, and Brittany knew she usually got a little hot seeing Sarah Michelle Gellar kiss a girl, although she knew she wasn't supposed to know that.

"Nah, I was thinking we should watch The OC," Santana said,

"Whots thaahht," Brittany asked, in a heavy accent.

Santana's smile grew. "Who just answered me?" she asked.

"The new British waitress at BreadStix," Brittany answered. "I met her while you were away. I've been following her around because her accent sounds awesome and she's really nice, and only a couple of years older than us."

"Be careful, Britt," Santana said, jealousy immediately inflaming her features, "you don't really know her, she could be secretly an axe murderer or an evil fisherman."

"Mhmm," Brittany hummed, humoring her, "or one of the original hyenas from _The Lion King."  
Santana could be so jealous sometimes, _she thought_,_ finishing Santana's hair and starting on what she could safely clean of her upper body.

Santana's body trembled, not because the water was cold, but because Brittany was somehow managing to caress her just as much as she was cleaning her. "The OC has a unicorn," she blurted out, "named Princess Sparkles, and she's in love with Captain Oats the horse. You'll love it."

Brittany studied her for a moment squinting as if she was trying to figure her out. "Just relax San," she said finally, willing her to realize that she didn't need to be so nervous, and she didn't have to keep babbling about every topic that came into her head. This didn't have to be awkward. "And, I don't care what we watch, I'm just glad you're back."

She trailed the sponge down Santana's stomach and without thinking, began to slowly do the insides of her thighs.

Santana shuddered, and shifted in the chair, trying to hide her arousal.

Brittany looked up, startled by Santana's jerky movements. Realizing what she was doing and where her hands were, she looked up at her, questioning if she should continue.

Santana nodded slightly, then felt the tightness in her lower stomach turn to fear, as she watched Brittany keep going as if this was perfectly normal and okay with her. "I hate this," Santana uttered the words that had been cramped in her mouth for some time.

Brittany stilled her movements. "What?"

"This. Being like this. You always make me like this. I hate myself like this," Santana babbled incoherently, rocking forward slightly.

"What?" Brittany asked again in a slightly higher pitch, trying not to let the hurt show on her face.

"Being weak. Being vulnerable. It's like that song you were singing to me the other day. I feel like I'm an ice sculpture and you're there at my feet making me warm, and making my tears rain down on you. It's kind of pathetic," Santana said, self loathing darkening her features. "And here you are doing all this for me, and it makes me even more pathetic and I can't stand it."

If she hadn't had such physical constraints, Brittany knew that Santana would have run right there and then. She could see that her whole body was just crawling with that energy she gave off when she needed to get away from something she was feeling.

"Being strong is about being afraid, San," Brittany said, the words only coming to her then.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Brittany you're not about to lie to me are you? You've never lied to me."

"I'm not lying," Brittany insisted, "and I'm not stupid. I know what you're talking about. You think being strong is all about acting like you're fine and that you don't care, and that can take care of yourself, but it's not. Being brave, is all about daring to be vulnerable, and it's not just about letting yourself be sad, it's about letting yourself be happy because that's harder to do than anything, because it gives us something to lose. Having so much to lose makes you vulnerable than ever, sort of like those millionaires that need bodyguards."

"Fucking hell. Okay, what movie is that from," Santana said, poking her playfully.

"No movie," Brittany said, clenching her fists in frustration.

"Then who are you, and what the fuck did you do with Brittany?"

"San! That's mean. I can be smart sometimes too."

Santana sank back in her chair and exhaled slowly. "I know," she said. "I'm sorry okay? You're the smartest person that I know, Britt, and I mean that. I just…-"  
_I just got scared… about being scared_, she thought.

"It's okay," Brittany told her, sitting on the floor and leaning her back up against the chair Santana that was still sitting on. It wasn't easy for Santana to say sorry, so she must have really meant it.

"Sometimes I wish I could be brave, like you," Santana whispered, placing her hands on top of Brittany's head. "You wear your heart on your sleeve and say whatever you're thinking and show everything you're feeling. If this were you, you wouldn't mind me taking care of you like this."

"I'm not brave, San," Brittany told her, "at least not as often as you think."

"Why?" Santana asked. If Brittany was going to turn into one of those girls that constantly downplayed their own achievements instead of just being honest, then she was really going to let her have it.

Brittany was silent for a time, wrestling with her mind, trying to untangle her own thoughts. "I'm not brave, because there are things in me that force me to be vulnerable without me making the choice to be."  
"I don't get to choose whether or not I say things, because they seem to just come out whether I want them said or not. It's not just that, I don't know how to control my feelings enough to hide them, or make them look like I'm having different feelings to cover them up. And then, sometimes, when I really want to say something that I think I mean, I can't make the right face, and it turns out that the face I'm making automatically is the one I really meant all along. And then there's all the times that I get kind of sick or pass out, like at Finn's party, do you remember?"  
_Finn even had to carry me up the stairs to his mom's room that night,_ Brittany thought. _How is that not vulnerable?_

Santana nodded, thoughtfully. _Okay, she really has a point there_, she allowed.

"I wasn't _choosing_ to be brave all those times, because having a kind of disability… or at the very least 'different abilities'... can sometimes force you to be vulnerable," Brittany mumbled.

A tiny gasp died in the back of Santana's throat. The entire time she had known her, Brittany had never once referred to her disorder. It had progressed to the point where Santana had often wondered if she even remembered she had autism at all, let alone if she understood what she was going through. Knowing the extent of her denial, just the acknowledgement was definitely a huge breakthrough.  
"Come sit up here," she told Brittany, patting her knees.

"Hmm?" Brittany looked up and saw Santana gesturing. "No I'll hurt you," she said.

"Come here, Britt," Santana repeated.

"Okay," Brittany said softly, rising to share the chair and sit between Santana's legs. It was a tight squeeze, but they fit.

"You were brave just now," Santana murmured to her in a low voice. She pressed a single finger to her nose and bounced off it, leaning forward slightly to kiss the same spot. She winced from the pain of having to raise her arms, but she didn't complain. It was worth it.

"I think I want to stop running away," Brittany said, "I think sometimes about wanting to be open about being different, and maybe even talk about it like it's no big deal. If I could do that, then maybe I would be brave."  
_And then you might be brave too_, she thought. _Maybe me being such a coward about who I am is why I can't seem to help you very much. _

"I… I… just…-" Santana stammered, and words failing her, she felt Brittany's hand close around hers. She shook her head repeatedly.

Brittany waited for a while, and when Santana couldn't find the words, she tried to help.  
"You remember when Buffy died, but then came back alive again in season six, except she came back different to how she'd been before, and everything she touched seemed too hard and bright and violent for her to feel it?" Brittany asked.  
_And then she kept running away to that vampire, Spike, every night because he made her stop feeling_, she thought.

Santana nodded, twisting soft blonde hair in between her fingers.

"I kind of feel like you died too, San. I'm not sure exactly when, or how it happened. But it was like somebody made you feel like the world is always going to suck, so you started running except when you're running, things don't suck but they feel good either, they just kind of feel like running; like you're always tired, like it's hard to take a breath, and like nothing really exists except for the way your feet are pounding the pavement."

Santana arched her body as if she wanted to run or scream or fight her, but then just as suddenly she deflated, going still.

Brittany leaned forward and kissed her nose back.

"I know how you feel because… you remember the day mom told me I was different? You were there, and we were eight years old. You talked to my mom for a while, then you came outside to me, and we talked about unillamas and rainbows because I couldn't deal with what I had just heard. Part of me right then was thinking that I could never be normal, and there will always be something wrong with me, and the rest of me thought that if I could only run fast enough, I might one day outrun it. Except I didn't, it was more like I ran away from me, and now I don't know if I like or if I hate myself, because I can hardly see who I am to judge."

_We're more alike than I thought,_ Santana realized, the idea surprising her. We somehow keep ending up in the same places, though we've taken such different paths.

Brittany paused. "I don't think I know who I am at all, San. I don't know anything about myself. I've run away from myself for too long to know who I am. Sometimes I think just staying still and facing it would have been better, because then it would be over. Running away can go on forever, and it is so tiring."  
_After all these years I'm kind of just yours and I don't know what else_, she thought.

"Oh yeah? Well, I got a boob job," Santana said a hint of humor in her voice.

"So I kind of figured," Brittany almost smiled, but everything in her expression begged to know 'why.'

Santana gave a heavy sigh, seeing the question in Brittany's eyes. "I guess I just wanted to be noticed. I wanted something that set me apart from everyone else, but I also wanted something that everyone noticed, so they didn't notice other things," Santana mumbled. "And most of all, I thought if I changed on the outside then the inside would be sure to follow."

"Running away, hurts right?" Brittany twisted around in the chair and gestured to Santana's chest.

"Like a bitch." Santana leaned her forehead against hers. Her back and her neck were both still killing her, let alone where she'd had the surgery.

"It hurts me too," Brittany told her. She had always believed that being different was okay, because she knew that Santana was different to other people.  
It was being different in Brittany's own way that she had questioned time and time again, wondering if she was too stupid to function in the world with the others or deserve good things like Santana. Even now, she was still afraid to explore that, because what if she did explore it, and all she found was that there wasn't a place for a person like her in the world? What if all the people who called her a 'retard' were right and she deserved their sneers? She hadn't wanted to know the answer, yet the question had still plagued her every day. _Well, that's definitely one way to run away_, she thought.

It was weird, but the more she learned about Santana, the more she learned about herself. She also suspected that the best way she had right now to explain 'who Brittany is' to someone else, might be to explain her relationship with Santana. That was all she had going for her right now, that was all she had of herself.

Both girls were silent for a while.

"Tell me something you're afraid of," Brittany asked her, urging her to open up.

"Well, I was afraid before that you would run off with Quinn," Santana admitted.

"What?!" Brittany tried to keep her voice down, but it still came out as a half-shriek. "Quinn hates me," she laughed.

"I'm pretty sure she likes you."

"But she's not even into girls."

"Oh for fuck's sake, you could turn anyone gay!" Santana half-shouted in exasperation.

They locked eyes for a moment, entire conversations being said without words.

"You said Quinn was pretty," Santana muttered finally, hurt showing all over her face.

Brittany's forehead wrinkled in confusion. When did she even say that?

"I never feel pretty sober, but I especially don't right now," Santana said, looking down at her chest. "This was a bad idea. I knew it from the moment I woke up at the clinic, and then when I heard you say that to Quinn...-" her voice broke off.  
"I guess that's kind of why I cried so much before."

A memory popped up in Brittany's mind, of the first time Santana had called her beautiful. They had been alone in this exact same bathroom, but it had been Brittany who had been naked, having just stepped out of the shower after rapping to Super Bass. It seemed like years ago now, but it wasn't. Maybe the difference was that because Brittany had gone through so much since, her mind had aged several years since that day, making her closer to having caught up with people her own age, yet still so far.

She thought back to that day again. It had been a good one, the day just before those first fireworks and their first kiss. It was the same day she had realized that Santana was beautiful too, not that she had ever thought otherwise. It was just she hadn't thought about it much at all before that moment. Funnily enough, she hadn't thought about much else since.

"You're my favorite thing in the whole world to look at, even more than ducks. So you must be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Brittany told Santana, using exactly the same words she had said on that day, just as she remembered them. She wanted Santana to know that even though things were different now, she still felt the same way, if not more strongly.

Recognition flooded Santana's features. She wanted to cry. She had cried so hard when Brittany had said that to her the first time, and she hadn't even known why. Brittany's words had held so much promise of 'what could be' and it had been the first time Brittany had really talked to her like that. That day had been before she had really started to screw up, before she had failed so badly afterwards, ignoring Brittany for months.

_If only that feeling could have lasted forever_, she thought wistfully. That feeling that they were headed along the right path, through their perfect road.  
"You can't blame me for being afraid to be happy," Santana said suddenly.

"Why?" Brittany asked.

"Because whenever you get too happy, something bad always happens."

Their roles reversed, Brittany pointed out the quote. "Did Charlie Brown say that? You know, the guy with Snoopy the dog from the cartoons?" Brittany was pretty sure she had seen it on a t-shirt.

"Oh, um probably. And it's like you said, when we're happy we've got something to lose. And we're bound to lose it, because all good things always go away in the end. Happiness always ends, it's inevitable. And I have a talent for screwing things up in the worst way possible. It's like Murphy's law, Brittany. If something can go wrong, it will in the end, because I'll cause it to go wrong. I'm kind of like Murphy's bitch."  
Santana paused. "I always make the worst decisions, like choosing to mutilate my chest instead of just buying a padded bra. And before long i'll have fucked up again and lost you to Quinn," Santana said, the words slipping out.

"I'll… I'll buy you some lucky panties," Brittany offered, stammering, trying to process all of Santana was saying and finding it hard. Santana was a complicated person. Her own lucky panties had never failed her, they had rainbows on them and little smiley faces, so maybe that would help.

Santana shrugged her shoulders, and for a while they sat in a comfortable silence, though the vibe Santana was giving off seemed intense and moody.

Thinking it over and realizing with a start what Santana was still upset about, Brittany reached out to her, cuddling her as best she could without hurting her. "You don't have to worry about Quinn, honey," Brittany soothed.

Santana pulled herself out of her funk and chanced a look at her. "Or the British girl from BreadStix?" she asked timidly.

Brittany shook her head adamantly. "Not her either," she said.

Santana relaxed slightly and Brittany stroked her still slightly damp hair.

"I don't know who this Murphy guy is who gets to be 'the law,' but I'm gonna name him Ryan," Brittany decided.

"Ryan Murphy?" Santana said quizzically.

"Yeah!" Brittany grinned. "He needs a dumb sounding name."

"Why?"

"Because if he's controlling all the bad stuff that's happening to you and me, I don't really like him very much."

"Me neither," Santana agreed wholeheartedly.

Brittany paused. "You know what San? You said that you thought that maybe if you changed on the outside, then your insides would be sure to follow, right?"

"Yeah, " Santana agreed. "I figured if people started looking at me differently, then maybe that new person that they saw might stick and become me."

"I don't think that's right. I think change starts with us. Change starts on the inside with how we see ourselves, and then the rest of the world just follows."

Santana shrugged.

"And I hope Ryan Murphy's law is the same, and it all comes down to us. Maybe if we make our own laws and ignore him, then the good thing will always come to us, instead of always the bad thing. Aren't you tired of waiting on Ryan to tell you what to do?" Brittany asked her, sounding vaguely like she was rounding up a party of rebels to fight against some cause.

"Brittany, ever the optimist," Santana said, affectionately, allowing herself one moment to dream with her.  
_Santana, ever the pessimist,_ she thought, catching sight of herself in the bathroom mirror.

Brittany stood up and did a graceful curtsey as if Santana had bestowed onto her a great compliment.

Santana paused. "About the good thing always being sure to happen, we'll call that Brittany's Law then?" she said suddenly.

Brittany could only smile. "I sound kind of like a president," she said happily. "I AM the law," she said doing her best impression of one of Buffy's famous speeches, neck vein popping out and all.

Santana's gaze turned serious. "You should be president. Enough of that being-the-treasurer business. You be president of your Unicorn Club now," she told her. _Brittany was always so reluctant to accept responsibilities, even those of a ficticious club_, Santana thought.

Brittany surprised her, placing her hand to her forehead and bouncing off it, saluting Santana with her best unicorn horn salute.

* * *

_Things have changed_, Brittany thought, ignoring the characters on the screen doing the teen mating dance. They were a couple seasons into The OC now. This show wasn't really about Princess Sparkles and Captain Oats, it was actually about people, and it was sort of interesting, but Brittany had something going on inches from her that was more interesting still.

Brittany couldn't put her finger on the subtle change in the girl lying propped up on pillows beside her in their pillow fort, eyes glued to the screen, but it was there. The next time that Brittany had helped her wash her hair, Santana hadn't said a word and had seemed more open to the idea. She also hadn't fought her since on taking pain pills, and had even let Brittany feed her in the days it still hurt for her to raise her arms.

Maybe Santana finally felt safe, feeling reassured when Brittany hadn't left her during her hour of hysterical tears. Brittany was glad that she hadn't left even when Santana had told her to go away. Maybe Santana was comforted by the fact that nothing bad had come out of her being at her worst in that moment. Nothing bad had come out of Brittany helping her shower either. They had survived, and maybe she was a little less scared of Brittany's rejection now, and a little less defensive.

"I want to name them," Brittany whispered to her when the sun went down on the seventh day. Neither of them wanted to get up to turn on the light.

"Hmm…," Santana asked sleepily, training her gaze upwards. Brittany had eventually draped a sheet over the top of their pillow fort, saying the sight of the stars were too bright.

"Your new boobs, I want to know what to call them," Brittany insisted.

"Okay," Santana said shuffling closer to her. "Name away."

"How about Katy and Perry," Brittany suggested playfully.

Santana grimaced. "Nope."

"Oats and Sparkles?"

Santana burst out laughing. "I'll actually consider that one," she said.

"Tom and Jerry?"

Santana shook her head from side to side.

"Mmm yeah, you're right, we don't want your boobs constantly in mutiny with each other… how about Statler and Waldorf?"

"Britt, are you nuts? That's not sexy at all."

"Um okay, so how about Superbia and Invidia… or…-"

"Woah, woah slow down. What language is that?"

"Count Chocula."

"Britts, that's a cereal, not a language."

"It was on the box," Brittany insisted. "It means Pride and Envy."

"It sounds like it's in Latin," Santana mused. "Okay then."

It seemed fitting to call them that, because pride and envy were the main two reasons Santana had got them done and Brittany had once again managed to accidentally hit the nail on the head.

Brittany clapped her hands, gleefully. "Sue and Vidia!" she told her, pointing.

"Ugh, why does my left boob have to be Sue," Santana groaned. "Speaking of, Coach Sue really is going to kill me."

"I'll protect you," Brittany promised, pulling out her glow and the dark pens and writing the names on Santana's body in the midst of all the text that was already there. She'd had the bandages taken off now, but they still had to be careful. Santana's boobs was still swollen but not quite as bad as they had been. They still didn't look real, they stuck straight out and were hard. Santana cried sometimes in the night, because she still thought that she looked like a freak, so Brittany would get out her pens again and write more things. She thought Santana looked cute with arrows and diagrams all over her stating just how beautiful she was, but you had to shine a black light pen first before you could see.

Brittany leaned over to her and traced the word 'perfect' on her shoulder. She knew where it was without the light. Santana had protested against it immediately as soon as she had written it, telling her not to lie, until Brittany had reminded her that she still couldn't say things that weren't true. Santana was fine when Brittany wrote all over her ribs and her elbows labeling her inside parts as well, but had protested more than ever when Brittany labeled her heart, insisting that she didn't have one. Brittany had grinned and had drawn hearts all over her body, saying she had so much heart there was some in her knees, her hand, her elbows and everywhere else she could reach.

Santana had told her she was silly, but Brittany didn't mind, because she had smiled, and Brittany had seen it even though they were in the dark.

* * *

Brittany was in the kitchen washing up. She'd done a bit better than defrosting fishsticks tonight and had managed to figure out how to make soup and a grilled cheese sandwich all by herself, without even causing any kitchen disasters. She grinned at the plates, feeling very much like a housewife, and resisted the urge to do a victory dance.

Today had been their eighth day of living together and they had been forced to go to school, as it was the first day of senior year, and they wanted to claim lockers next to each other, before they were all taken. The prom committee, led by one Quinn Fabray, had already taken over the entire building with pictures of the moon and the stars for their prom theme 'Reach for the stars.' According to the flyers, Prom was being held early, because it proved to be too much of a distraction during final exams when it was usually held. Santana didn't care much either way, and had rolled her eyes, but Brittany was into it, rushing up and down the halls to look at all the decorations.

"_San! These are awesome! Look they kind of glow like you." _

_Santana was just hoping that there wasn't a chance in hell that someone would randomly have a black light and shine it on her, because all her secrets and then some were still there in invisible ink. _

"_That's great Britt." _

"_I've always dreamed of going to Prom," Brittany told her, "like a normal girl." She halted her steps, running her fingers over a glitter poster.  
_"_Is that stupid," she asked Santana anxiously? _

_What Brittany had said had hit Santana a little bit too close to home, so she could only shake her head. She pulled out a nail file and tried to look busy when she saw cameras coming up to them, making a pit stop to interview Quinn first. It looked like yet another one of Jacob Ben Israel's stupid documentaries.  
"I should probably find Puck," she said to Brittany breaking the spell. _

_Slowly becoming aware of the crowd, Brittany bit back more comments about prom and watched Jacob interview Quinn, who had the exclusive report on hormones. Maybe that was why Santana said Quinn was acting strangely towards her lately? _

"_How was YOUR summer," Jacob Ben Israel said, thrusting the microphone at Santana's boobs. _

"_My eyes are up here, Jew Fro," Santana retorted, glaring at him. _

_Sue and Vidia ain't available for comment, Brittany thought. _

"_And it was uneventful," Santana continued, looking at the nail file in her hands, clearly not wanting the attention on her right now. _

_Brittany could see a tiny bead of sweat forming at her temple, and knew that the last thing Santana wanted right now was to be confronted about her boobs. It was too soon, and she was still too sore. Maybe her body didn't hurt as bad anymore, but her pride was still raw. _'_Superbia' still couldn't really bounce around like a normal boob yet, and that seemed to upset Santana quite a lot. _

_She stepped in, willing the cameras to move from Santana over to her.  
_"_People thought I went on vacation, but actually I spent the summer lost in the sewers," she announced. _

_Quinn gave her an incredulous look, but Santana gave her a grateful smile. _

_Santana caught Brittany sneaky little smile back, and laughed on the inside. She hadn't witnessed Brittany's lapses in reality done for effect yet, so this was new. When she was younger Brittany had definitely been completely serious about her crazy tales, but maybe now they were fast becoming her style of humor. _

"_Yes, I wrestled alligators and I met their king," Brittany said, continuing the interview, her eyes staring off into the distance and becoming unfocused. "But the best part was that I met the Ninja Turtles and found their hideout. I promised to send pizza long distance down the toilet to them every Friday." _

_A bubble of laughter burst through Santana's throat. Seeing the two were obviously sharing something personal, Quinn stormed off. As soon as the cameras were gone, Brittany winked at her in an over-exaggerated manner. _

"_You know, Jacob Ben Israel's head kind of looks like a porn movie from the seventies," Brittany told her. "You know, before they thought of hair removal down there and stuff. With some sneaky camera work, he could be like a ninja, 'cause in every scene you'd never know if he was there going down on someone, or if the lady was just standing there butt naked." _

_Santana could only laugh harder. She hadn't been sure that Brittany had really listened to all her sex education rants, but clearly she had, and Santana had taught her well. "That was your first dirty joke, Britt," she said proudly. _

_It had been a good day, even if she hadn't seen Santana much after that_, Brittany thought coming back to the present and puffing air at the soap bubbles on her hands, watching some come off and float down slowly. She felt Santana's presence in the doorway, and tried to play it cool, and not be smiling at the soapy dishes like they were a winning lottery ticket.

Santana came up behind her. "Are you coming to bed soon?" she asked, and Brittany's heart stopped. This felt strangely perfect, this playing at domestic life with Santana, acting like they did this all the time. Brittany felt a feeling that she couldn't name grow in her chest, and catch in her throat, making her unable to answer.

"I'll help," Santana told her, leaning her forehead against her shoulder, pointing at the dishes.

"No," Brittany shook her head. "You're still sore, and I'm nearly done anyway." She washed the foam off her hands.

"Okay," Santana agreed. "Well I'm waiting for you," she told her, nuzzling her head against her shoulder and leaving the room.

Brittany paused for a moment, watching her go and then looked at the clock. It was 9:42pm on a Monday and she was seventeen years old.

She moved over to the window, seeing the rain beat down hard outside, raindrops spraying against the window and racing each other down the glass.

"Slow down," she told them, seeing two side by side, one going at a slightly faster pace than the other, but it seemed they only trickled down faster.

"Slow down raindrops, and slow down life," she told the world, hearing Santana's voice echo in her head.

"_Well I'm waiting for you." _

What just happened seemed so irrelevant and so important all at once, and if she was playing one of Kurt's video games, she would totally hit the save point right now, so if she messed the next part up, she could always come back here, to this moment and play again, to the moment where Santana was waiting for her in their bedroom fortress.

"Game saved," she whispered to herself wishing it were true, before tailing Santana back to their fort. _Checkpoint_.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Santana had ditched the pillows Brittany offered her, in favor of lying on Brittany instead. Brittany's chest was still soft and perfect, and all kinds of comfortable.

Brittany was tired, it had been a long week, though definitely a wonderful one. Her eyes kept fluttering closed and she had to keep forcing them awake. She didn't really want to sleep. This was probably their last night here, and she didn't want to waste it.

"I've always loved the way you say my name," Santana said suddenly. "When you used to not talk for a while, my name was usually the first thing you'd say again."

"San-tan-a," Brittany said, drawing each syllable out. Santana's head, still resting on her chest, rose and fell with each breath she took.

"Not like that," Santana laughed softly.

"Santana," Brittany said, angling her head to look into her eyes.

"Yeah," Santana said, shifting, to slowly sit up.

"You say it like… my name is safe in your mouth or something. It makes me feel…," Santana trailed off like she was surprised at herself for talking that way.

"Can I kiss you?" Brittany asked.

"Yes," Santana breathed out slowly, and Brittany suspended herself above her, leaning on her hands, some of her hair falling down to tickle Santana's face.

Brittany felt like a Lion Cub as she pinned Santana's legs down, making sure to avoid her chest. She wasn't actually restraining her, Santana could have pushed her off with one hand, but that was the last thing on the other girl's mind.

"Can I keep you?" Brittany asked, possessively, pretending she had a mane like Santana's to go with the lion fantasy. It was a question that she had asked many times before, but she had not yet received an answer, and she no longer waited for one.  
She leaned down and kissed her, transforming into a grown up lioness as she worked her tongue into Santana's mouth, and felt Santana begin to rock into her slowly, her body molding itself into hers.

Santana didn't answer the question, but instead began rocking into her harder, forcing Brittany's head even closer to hers and kissing her almost roughly.

"Grrr," Brittany growled, smiling around Santana's mouth and kissing her back harder. She took Santana's bottom lip in between her own, and felt Santana's hands come up and scratch her shoulders. She was drawing blood, but neither of them noticed, they were too involved in each other, and apart from the faint glow of the TV there wasn't much light.

"What's this called," Brittany asked, feeling Santana's stomach shudder underneath hers, as they came together in the middle. Brittany liked that she could feel all of Santana's body right now. She liked being this close.

"Scissoring," Santana whispered back.

"It's my new favorite thing," Brittany informed her.

"Shhhh, there's a lot of talking and I wants to get my mack on," Santana said into her mouth, now grinding against her, moving in small circles.

Brittany felt like they were almost-kind-of dancing, and she was following Santana's lead. She grasped at her and tried to keep up.

Feeling something build in her that wasn't at all the feeling she was looking for, Santana raked her nails underneath Brittany's shirt, feeling a sticky fluid begin to coat her finger. Brittany yelped and nearly collapsed on her hands, just managing to keep herself upright in time.

"Fuck," Santana swore. "I didn't hurt you, did I Britt?"

"No," Brittany insisted, seeing Santana had gone all stiff. She nuzzled her cheek, trying to melt her again so they could keep going. It did kind of hurt, but it wasn't that bad and she didn't mind that her lioness had claws.

"No there's definitely blood. Let me see." Santana gently pushed Brittany off and fumbled around for the black light nearby. "Show me," she ordered.

"Okay," Brittany said pulling off her shirt, and turning around, as Santana hit the tiny switch and pointed the flash at her.

Santana swore again. "I made you bleed. Shit shit shit."

"I'm okay San." Brittany thought back to all the guys on the football team who had been given those marks and decided to treat it as a rite of passage. "It's kind of what you do with everyone, right?"

"Yeah, but not with you," Santana told her, rubbing Brittany's back, fingering around the marks gently as if she were in a trance.

"Oh," Brittany sighed, sadly. She wanted to be part of everything, even if it hurt sometimes, but maybe she wasn't good enough.

"Britt, I feel like the angry part of me scratches other people in times like this. Like it comes from the cold part of me. I've always called her Snix. I don't want to be like this with you, any more than I want to have sex with you while I'm like Super-Santana on E."

Brittany shrugged. She didn't know what 'E' was. It could be anything, but she guessed it was a drug.

"I just want to be a normal girl sometimes, you know? Is that stupid?" Santana said pressing a kiss to her back, not realizing that she was saying almost the same thing as Brittany had said to her earlier in the day.

"No…," Brittany told her thinking of prom. "No I don't think it's stupid at all."

* * *

"Oh! Sweet lady kisses," Brittany mumbled softly into Santana's cheek. _I'm like my own kind of junkie for this_, she thought.

Santana was kissing up and down her neck and Brittany clutched her tightly, trying to keep her there as long as possible. Having Santana so close over the summer and then having to go back to normal life had been so hard, and Brittany felt like an addict needing a fix every time Santana promised to come over. Puck was in juvie again, and that meant Santana was back, sneaking into her room, even though it was late.

"My teeth hurt," Brittany whined. That singing dentist drug lord had pulled them all out.

"He didn't pull them all out, Britt," Santana comforted her, "he just filled all the tiny holes in… and unfortunately you had more holes than teeth."

"Unnnghh," Brittany said, mostly because Santana was now kissing around her jaw in the spots where her fillings were.

"All better?" Santana asked. Brittany only smiled and pointed to one spot she had missed. She thought it was super nice of Santana to think of her pain, when she knew the other girl was still hurting too.

Santana had almost completely recovered from her surgery, although she still complained of neck and back pain, and still needed to massage her breasts at least once a day. The doctor said it was to soften them, and get them falling right and looking more natural.

"Does Invidia need a massage?" Brittany asked. In the end, Santana's right boob had been the slowest one to heal, and it had given her way more grief than Sue on the left. Ironically, Santana's left boob was the only 'Sue' who was calm. Coach Sue herself had given Santana more grief than either of them had thought possible. She had crucified her, giving all of Santana's privileges to a very self-satisfied Quinn Fabray.

Santana nodded shyly. "Yeah," she said, "and Santana does too. My back is killing me again."

"Aww…," Brittany sympathized, realizing that it probably hurt Santana to be leaning over her like this right now. "You lie down. I'll do Invidia first. I've got cold hands though."

"I don't mind," Santana told her laying down on her back. "It never hurts when you do it, but it hurts every time when I try."

Brittany hovered her hand over her chest for a few seconds, then pressed her fingers under and over, and then squeezed a little like the instruction booklet from the clinic had told them to do. Santana shivered pleasurably under her touch, watching Brittany's hands.

"Is this okay?" Brittany asked concerned when she shivered. Her hands _were_ really cold.

"Yeah, that's good," Santana said, her voice coming out lower than it usually did. She let Brittany sit her up and felt the other girl begin massaging her back, her long fingers working their way into all of the sore and tight spots.

"Ow!" Santana exclaimed, when Brittany's thumb found one of the worst knots in her back.

"Oh, how did that happen?" Brittany said softly, feeling it.

"I don't know," Santana said relaxing into Brittany's touch as she worked away at the knot, smoothing her palm over the area. "These things are heavy," she muttered looking down.

Without being told, Brittany's hands went up higher and started rubbing at her neck as if she already knew it hurt there too. When she finally stopped, Santana lay back in her arms, and Brittany's hands came around to rest at her stomach. Both their legs dangled off the edge of Brittany's bed.

"I never said thank you," Santana said, playing with Brittany's fingers and rubbing her knuckles against the back of her hand. She knew Brittany liked that.  
"I meant to say thank you for looking after me before, even though I made it so hard," she said, leaning back into her.

Brittany traced some of the hearts she had drawn on Santana's body. The ink had long since washed off now, but her mind could see them all the same.  
"It's okay," she said, turning Santana around to face her so they could pretend to be two Koalas. Nobody could cling like a Koala. She knew Santana kind of liked it when she faced her and sat in the space between her legs, wrapping both her own legs and arms around her waist. It was like twice as much cuddling, and it usually made Santana laugh.  
This time it didn't. In the moment, the position only made them both look like two scared teenage girls, which is perhaps exactly what they really were.

_I want to give you something_, was all Santana had time to think, before something else unexpectedly took over her, like a switch that had just been flicked on. Santana felt like they were two magnets, both trying to get impossibly closer. Having Brittany this close to her did things that she couldn't explain and didn't want to acknowledge. All she could do was give in.

Brittany had no idea how the next part happened, but just like gravity they were suddenly touching each other quickly and hurriedly as if they were the raindrops on the window racing each other, then joining up as one to race faster.

The light was still on, and Brittany's eyes were impossibly huge when Santana took the last of her clothes off. _We'regoingtohavesex. We'regoingtohavesex!_ _I hope I still remember how to do the finger thing_, her mind thought, tumbling all over itself._ I'm going to fix it,_ she thought, ever optimistic. _It's going to be better than last time._

Santana was glancing at her as if to make sure this was okay, and Brittany could only nod. In this moment, she couldn't be more sure that this was okay.

Santana made a small gesture as if she wanted to be the one to do it this time. Her hands came close to pulling at Brittany's clothes, then fell back at her sides, shaking her head. She just couldn't. She wanted to touch Brittany, but she just couldn't. Her hands trembled with want and regrets.

_Another love I would abuse,  
No circumstances could excuse._

She lay back hesitantly, and Brittany moved in front of her with sudden confidence. She couldn't reach Santana's mouth so she bent her head down and kissed her hip bone. She paused and bit her lip, then slid her index finger inside her easily, placing several more kisses to her stomach as she slowly worked her finger in and out.

Santana arched her back, then gasped as as if she was surprised at her own sudden involuntary movement.

Brittany couldn't help but stare. _That had to be the first step to this dance, she thought._ Enthused, she kept going, quicker, feeling Santana's muscles tighten.

"Britt," Santana choked out.

Brittany froze, her mind running wild. She was immediately afraid she'd done it wrong and hurt her, or she was going to cry again and need her to stop.

Santana spared a fleeting glance to the TV where Cruel Intentions was softly playing in the background. "You remember… you remember _where_ Sebastian said _he _wanted to kiss Cecile?" she said barely audibly, in the heat of the moment daring to say what she wanted, yet somehow emphasizing the words to indicate that it was mostly the giver that the kiss was for, not the reciever.

Brittany nodded. _He had wanted to kiss her down… oh, _her mind slammed with the realization.

Brittany was filled with curiosity, and she wasn't fooled. Santana wanted this.

_Every me, and every you._

She leaned down, slowly bringing her face closer._ I_ _love you Santana. I love you,_ Brittany thought, trying to transmit all her feelings to her.

Santana trembled more and more the closer Brittany came to her center, gripping her shoulders and holding on for dear life. She was clenching and unclenching her hands around different parts of her wildly, yet without the violence of the time she had scratched up Brittany's back.

Brittany kissed her once, then scooted closer and kissed her again, her tongue clumsily finding its way to its target. She flicked it in and out like a lizard's twice, gasping herself at the effect it was having on Santana. The muscles in the other girl's legs seemed to have collapsed. Brittany felt buried in this position, like she might disappear in her. She inhaled her scent, feeling as if they had just opened up another door and she'd found another piece of her to memorize. She wouldn't mind staying here longer, encasing herself in all that was Santana. She tasted both salty and sweet all at once, kind of like the ocean, after heavy rain.

_If it rained sugar water_, Brittany thought, looking at her dark center up close and then raising her head upwards, her eyes not missing Santana's scars

_My body's broken, yours is bent._

_I love you Santana_, Brittany thought, looking up at her, even though she was looking away. _I love you more than anything in the world_.  
She paused, then slid her finger in one last time. Santana's body was hot and wet, kind of like touching summer.

"Brittany," Santana uttered, breathily, and all Brittany could think about was that she understood what she meant now, when Santana said her name, if felt like her name and all she was, was safe inside her. Brittany pushed her finger in further, placing her other hand on Santana's stomach, feeling it cave in almost immediately.

_Instead of stressed, I lie here charmed._

Santana breath hitched and she cried out, reeling and arching her back one more time, as her arms then collapsed on themselves. Santana reminded Brittany of pictures of worlds crumbling down, and as she felt Santana tighten around her finger, then start to fall, Brittany pulled out and reached for her and held her still. She looked into her eyes trying to tell if she was okay, and felt Santana's hands come through her hair, messing it up before slamming her eyes closed as a wave of something hit her. Brittany pulled her close locking her arms around her as Santana wrapped her legs around her hips, mirroring the same position they had started in, desperately clutching at her, riding out the aftershocks. "It's okay," Brittany told her, not really sure exactly what this was, or what she was reassuring her of, but wanting to comfort her all the same. "It's okay San, I've got you."

For a moment, both of them just breathed. Santana's breath came out noisy and raspy almost like she was breathing out notes, but Brittany was shocked and soundless. Santana was clammy in her arms, and Brittany held on tight, pressing her cheek to her shoulder.

_Like the naked leads the blind. _

"I work," Santana uttered, rising and falling over the words. "I didn't think… I didn't think I could do this without… I mean I didn't take anything before we started. I never thought I'd get anywhere."  
_I thought I was going to have to pretend for her, so she doesn't think that sex is bad. I was going to do it for her, then it happened. It happened, _Santana thought, the ties in her mind having all come undone.

Brittany eased back. She rubbed Santana's legs, and a lazy smile suddenly appeared on the other girl's face, accompanied by a sudden expression of peace that Brittany had never seen on her before.

_Every me and every you._

_You danced with me,_ Brittany thought, joyfully wrapping her arms around her neck. _You did. You did._

"Santana," Brittany whispered into her neck, "come to prom with me."  
All Brittany could see was Santana in a beautiful red dress dancing with her. And then, she saw her in a white one too.

_Something borrowed, something blue._

Santana inhaled sharply and immediately stiffened in her arms, then shakily turned herself around on the bed. Immediately a desolate sense of grief filled the room, and a wave of it shook Brittany like another kind of aftershock altogether.

"We-we didn't just do this because I'm in love with you and want to make love and lady babies and dance with you at our prom," Santana stammered. "I'm only here because Puck has been in the slammer for like 12 hours, and I'm like a lizard…"

Regressing under the weight of her emotions, Brittany looked at her suddenly hopeful. _A whiptail lizard? A lizard with a magic tongue that she could use on me?_ she thought.

"I need something warm beneath me or I can't digest my food," Santana finished, needing to crush the last shred of hope she could see in the other girl's face.

Brittany shook her head, refusing to believe her. She knew better. She always saw through Santana now, and knew that this was her walls talking, and that she didn't mean it.

Brittany watched her gaze flicker from left to right looking for the nearest escape. She knew what always came of Santana running away. She didn't want her to go, but most of all she couldn't let her run off thinking she was a bad person when she was just so scared. That would bring them right back down again.

She knew Santana was frightened by what she had just felt, and was doing what she thought had to be done to not to break down again, and lose herself entirely.

That was what hurt Brittany the most, not the words, but that Santana didn't trust her to catch her yet. She thought of all the progress they had made together, the bittersweet memories of cuddling at night in sad desperate moments sheltered by an unbreakable fort, while Santana cycled through moods that only months ago would have been enough to push Brittany away.  
It hurt that these moments of trying so hard to protect Santana and make her feel safe, were still not enough for her to drop her guard and let Brittany hold her through the terrifying times of feeling good.  
It felt as if a hollow pit had opened up in her stomach, and was now threatening to swallow her whole.

Realizing the importance of this moment's choices, she closed the space between them and kissed Santana's cheek, feeling salty tears escape her own eyes while Santana's own stayed stoically dry. "I love you, Santana," she forced out, saying it for the first time in a long time out loud.  
She started crying harder. She rubbed at her eyes, trying to stop, feeling as if she had to be the brave one. She had told Santana that she loved her, laying down everything she had yet again, to promise her that she still wasn't a bad person. She wanted Santana to know that she was still safe with her here, even though she had been mean.

Taking Santana's limp hand, Brittany remembered something her Granny used to say when she was little, her own wish for what would become of her Granddaughters life.  
_"__May __flowers always line your path, and sunshine light your day. May __songbirds serenade you every step along the way. May a rainbow run beside you, in a sky that's always blue. And may happiness fill your heart each day your whole life through."_

She recited it in her mind, willing it to give her strength.

Santana was not yet a songbird, she was still confined to the most fragile of egg shells, not yet hatched and capable of singing away her own sorrow.

_It won't be like this forever_, she promised herself. _It won't, it won't_. She felt Santana's arms finally come around her, as if she had just woken up and found her lying in the crook of her arm, her face wet with tears. She knew that if the tables were turned and Brittany had been the one to reject her, Santana would never have let her comfort her like this. But, burying her face in her shoulder, she couldn't bring herself to care.

_'Cause it's a bittersweet symphony, this life_

* * *

**So, I'm going to attempt to explain what the hell is actually going on here. :P **

**Santana had no idea it was possible for her to enjoy sex drug free. Doing drugs made her feel smarter, funnier and better looking, and overall so strong… like she didn't need any walls for her own protection… drugs just automatically knocked them down, and it was easier for her to have physical reactions as well, because she didn't have that overwhelming fear that could block her physical reactions.  
****  
Drug feelings weren't her real feelings though, so I can now look at a lot of the sex she had with Puck and say that there weren't real feelings involved up til this point, because all drug based ones don't count.  
****She _never ever_ took drugs to be intimate with me.  
****I guess she thought she owed me that, but also it kind of proves that all along she wanted sex with me to be about real feelings, with our real sober selves.  
****Sometimes she at least _thought _she was being detached and that she was being sexual with me for my sake and not her own... but that wasn't always true. During our intimate moments, she could definitely work herself into a state where she was too fearful and upset to even want to be on this planet, let alone okay enough to enjoy being with me, but there _were _alsomoments where we were definitely not just being intimate for my sake.  
****  
It was so hard, because it was like she'd realize she was enjoying it, then she'd freeze up in panic and denial, scared that:  
****  
(a)she was gay and this was a real thing, and that people would find out and judge her.  
(b) she was scared to be happy about it because she was certain that it could only end with her fucking it all up (like she said - Murphy's bitch) and also with her fucking me up in the process.  
(c) she was also scared she was incapable of being happy like a normal person, and was therefore not good enough for me (this one always came with self loathing, which didn't help her feel very sexy.) **

**Option (a) usually ended in her making it about me, saying we were only kissing 'for me.'  
Option (b) and (c) usually led to her running away because I was 'better off without her', but she grew to realize that running away didn't help much or make things better, which brought her back to redoubling her efforts and making it 'all about me' in a genuine attempt to try to make me happy, even if she was not.  
****  
****She didn't realize that either way she went about it, it was still obvious she loved me. If she wanted to kiss me for her own sake, she loved me. If she wanted to kiss me for my sake, that still shows dedication and love for me.  
I had only sort of figured that out back then. This was all so confusing that it was easy to question whether she really loved me and spiral into self doubt at times. **

**Of course my "Santana" never said 'I'm like a lizard' but I used that line from Glee because what she did say was similar and still about her trivializing our relationship and brushing me off, which she did when she was particularly scared by Option (a). In this case, having great sex made 'us' suddenly an incredibly real thing, perhaps the only real thing in her life, and that terrified her, and she had to downplay it. If she let it into her heart, then she would have so much to lose, and in her mind, there were no happy endings of not losing things. Plus, I mentioned prom, so that made it as real as it could ever possibly get.  
She then stayed with me and hugged me while I cried all over her, instead of rushing off and leaving me, because of Option (b) conflicted with Option (a).  
She needed to trivialize the relationship and storm off for Option (a), but she took the softer option and hugged me instead because of Option (b) - not wanting to completely 'fuck me up' (in her words) was important too.  
And honestly, let's face it, how she behaved in the end scene was definitely the soft option for her; she easily could have used things she knew against me and let fly with dozens of cruel insults and yelled at me in order to brush me off, so what happened was harsh but still not as harsh as it could have been. **

**I think when Santana-on-the-show said 'I'm like a lizard' she was just as sad and tormented as I just wrote her in this scene, except we didn't see it.  
**

**And yeah, I know the last scene is painful to read and I'm sorry for that… I actually had to make all kinds of threats to myself to sit down and write it, because I flat out refused for ages because it was just too hard. Brittany tries to be strong in that scene, but she was more hurt than she realized. I'll get to that. **

**^I wrote this explanation mostly because for a while Brittany's emotions are going to get a bit more of a focus over Santana's in the next chapter(s), so I wanted to end this chapter by laying out what we know about Santana, as like a checkpoint. Brittany has no idea in this part of the story what she wants other than that she wants Santana. That's not all that healthy. **

**Oh, and 'may flowers always line your path etc' is an actual saying, I think it's initially Irish, but I'm not sure. **

* * *

**3 things:**

**1. "Fall at your feet" is an Australian (or NZ?) song, thanks to Kurt's enormous rare music collection. It seems like forever ago he played me that song for the first time. I found a guy with Asperger's singing it (I'm a bit of a fan of him now), so I thought it seemed appropriate. I sing it in a higher key.  
****/watch?v=TeXCkMZ-rRk&feature=plcp**

**2. Songs used at the end are Every you, every me by Placebo  
/watch?v=ScpRLLDBUkc **

**And a line of Bittersweet Symphony by The Verve  
****/watch?v=jUIPk2ljZv4&feature=plcp**

**It's so weird listening to the above two songs again. I haven't heard them or watched Cruel Intentions since that night. It's like being in a time capsule. Santana really loved that movie, and I think she liked watching it with me mostly because I would show an interest all on my own and ask her questions about adult things and she'd relate it back to our lives. Some mature movies she put on just went over my head, but that one really didn't.  
****She often started our phone conversations with 'fuck her yet' and I swear it was just to hear me say the words 'blow me.' :P I haven't actually watched Buffy since those days either and it's weird bringing that back as well. **

**I guess I should also say here, that in spite of the fact that I had memorized Santana enough to see through her and know when her meanness was because she was scared, that doesn't mean I can do it with other people at all. I grew with her in that way, but I'm not able to read minds and see through anyone else.**

**Also, I have actually never named any other boobs, just hers. **

**3. Don't worry about Quinn… I only talked about her weird vibes towards me to show Santana's jealousy issues, because really they were quite intense. I may or may not talk more about that later. I know Quinn didn't have a c-section surgery on the show, but my Quinn did. She was a bit older though, she was eighteen. She had a boy, not a girl. The father of her child is actually a friend of Puck's. **

**I can't really comment on anything else… I'm not entirely sure how I convinced myself to write all that in the first place, but now that it is done, I hope I conveyed it right. **

**Also, I'm not doing a hiatus, I'll just keep going and keep doing my own thing like I always do, even though the timing with Glee might not be that great. **

**Lots of love to you unicorns, Happy Halloween, and I hope everyone is okay and safe from Hurricane Sandy. **


	20. Your Face Against the Morning Sun

**First of all, thanks to all you unicorns for being so patient. All messages I got asking where I was and if I was okay were all lovely, and not a single person was at all rude or demanding.**

**I have had some personal issues, which I will explain at the bottom of this page. Nothing in here is left a secret. :P I bring you guys 26k as a peace offering, though from the nature of a lot of the content, I don't think this is my best chapter. It's actually a couple of chapters put together, but I hate cliffhangers so I refused to stop writing until I reached a checkpoint that I liked. **

**Last chapter was so great for reviews and I think I got called a genius three times, and it doesn't get any better than that! :)**

**luceroadorada and harumad - thank you both for reminding me that I said nothing about how Santana's surgery links up to my own timeline! ****I can't believe I forgot.  
****Just before senior year started Santana went overseas for the first time and she got so sick at the airport coming back. We spent an entire week in the bathroom, and for the first few days it was just her and I sitting in the bathtub together, while I tried to keep her temperature down. She fought me so hard before finally letting me help her, exactly how I wrote it in Chapter 19.  
****Santana was only thirteen when she started talking about boob jobs and cosmetic surgery. Her mom had already had her boobs done, so it was a very normal, accepted thing in her house. Santana hated the fact that she didn't have as much going on as Quinn. She kept saying to me even when she was thirteen, that if she only looked different, everything about her would be better because people would have to treat her differently, and a whole lot of other things like that, so I did kind of quote her there and put that in.  
****Santana didn't get them done just before senior year like in the chapter, she got them done in college. She and her mom went to the clinic together 'to bond' with each other, except as her mom already had them done, her mom only got hers modified.  
****So what I did was I combined the two experiences into one. :)**

**Prattle01 - Oh! I definitely don't see you at all as an aggressive person. It's more like, some people stand back and just watch their friends get hurt, but others (like you) are strong enough to step up and say or do something about it. From your comments right from the beginning I saw you as a strong person who likes things to be fair, with a good sense of what fairness really is, and I liked that a lot about you, and I hold those qualities as ones I wish I had more of, you know? I want to step up, and let bullies know how they treat people (usually me) is not okay, much more often than I do. So it's a really positive thing for me to look at the illustration of you as a unicorn protecting the page, and triumphantly winning a battle over 'evil,' because it makes me feel strong too, like I too won't just stand back and put up with bullying next time, so I only meant to thank you, not embarrass you….and I really hope you don't mind! :) **

**xoxo – What did you guess was in Granny's letter? I'm so interested to know! I would put money on the fact that you probably figured it out, or at least part of it out. :)  
****Anyway, I'm about to tell you all about the letter in this chapter at some point. I also agree it's so sad for teenagers to get a boob job, my Santana was obsessing about getting one before she'd even finished growing. Speaking of canon, this chapter and the next one is still vaguely on canon (though I've been twisting it around a bit) and then after that things change.**

**hlnwst – Aww… "Who needs to worry when Brittany S. Pierce loves you and thinks you're perfect?"… that is the sweetest thing to say.  
****It's cool that we have kind of the same history with Cruel Intentions. Santana tried in vain to open my eyes to other movies before it. She tried "A Clockwork Orange" when we were a bit younger and when it came to the sex scene I kind of stared, and she got so hopeful that I might be finally paying attention and learning things, but then I said and I quote: "Are they pretending to be bunnies?" :P I also know what you mean about wanting to keep this in the Brittana community too. I think I would rather have a hundred people read this who really understood and connected with the story, than millions of people who just kind of enjoyed it.  
****Feel free to 'take up as much of my space and time' as you like, by the way, I'm always glad to hear from you. :)**

**Miara848 – Thank so much for not being mad at Santana for the brush off at the end of the last chapter… I really appreciate that, because it's so easy for people to be angry at her, and it would mean a lot to her to have your support (and it means a lot to me!). Also, I'm so proud of you for the great grade on your art project! *gives you a big hug***

**BiBenji**** – Thank you so much, and I would have been so impressed if you managed to read 13 chapters in a night because the ones at the end are **_**so**_** long. Also, I absolutely love your unique name. :) **

**Joodles91, wkgreen, just. a. dreamer. named. jay, sadpanda15 & Ascoeur – thanks so much for the lovely comments and for reading. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 20 – Your Face Against the Morning Sun**

**Brittany, S. Pierce, Present.**

Dear Artie,

I'm sorry for how I treated you in senior year. Had I known the things I do now, I never would have let you fall in love with me.

I'm sorry that I was the last person you were able to love, and I'm sorry that this isn't your story, because you deserve to have someone love you enough to write pages and pages for you, like I've done for Santana.

Our relationship was only brief, but you helped me realize that I was smart enough to take on senior year, and you made me realize that I deserved to be treated better than I was being treated. You were a perfect gentleman. I only wish I had given you something half as nice back. I did love you, just not in the way you wanted me to.

You have your place in this story, and it wouldn't have been written the same way without you.

Love,

Brittany

* * *

**Brittany S. Pierce, Age 17**

"As your school guidance counselor I'm in charge of setting up careers week, and making sure we have representatives from all the different professions that the students are interested in, and I've called you in here today because….Brittany are you listening," Miss Pillsbury asked.

"There's a ladybug on my finger," Brittany told her, holding it up, "are all ladybugs ladies?"

Caught off guard, Miss Pillsbury allowed her attention to be diverted. "Um… no, I think there are boy ones too."

"Oh," Brittany said, squinting at the tiny insect on her finger. She brought it closer to her face and spoke to it, "If you're really a boy don't worry, you can still be as manly as a stag beetle if that's what you really want. I'll only look at your insides, not your outsides."

"Yes. Okay. Touching. Now as I was saying I can see you've had some trouble filling out your careers week quiz, and I'm sorry but I can't score it for you unless you redo it, and change… all of your answers."

Brittany sat and regarded her for a moment, disappointed that her ladybug had now flown away. She figured it was headed to its lover for some sweet ladybug kisses.  
"I don't want to," she said finally.

"Why?" Miss Pillsbury asked. "Didn't you see all your friends get theirs back? There was so much excitement in the cafeteria at break. Don't you want to know what you're going to be?"

"I don't think I want to be anything. There's no point," Brittany said in a dull monotone.

"You don't really mean that, do you? What's got you feeling like this? This isn't like you," Miss Pillsbury said surprised, the resistance from the usually mild mannered blonde girl coming as a surprise.

"I do mean it," Brittany said defiantly, "and nothing made me feel like this."

"What are all your friends going to be?" Miss Pillsbury repeated.

"_I couldn't even be classified," Santana bragged, proudly holding up her score sheet. "As your undisputed top bitch of this school, the whole world wants me. Look, they think I'd mostly be a good lawyer or doctor, but I've got stars in the journalism and athletic career columns too. I don't even know where to apply first." _

_Brittany sent a small smile in Santana's direction. _

_Santana is so smart, I always knew she could do anything, Brittany thought. _

_She pushed her food around, pilling it on top of itself like a tower. _

"_Well, I'm headed straight to Broadway," Rachel spoke up. "I expect I'll only last a week at NYADA before people will be approaching me for all kinds of parts. I bet I'd be perfect for this new show called Spring Awakening." She flashed her quiz around, the gold stars she had applied to the bottom catching the light and sparkling._

"_Does your sheet say 'Broadway star' Santana?" Rachel asked dramatically, rolling her eyes at her. "You will never know what it's like to have the whole world want you until you have made so many curtain calls that you think you might pass out from the sheer exhaustion of it all, 'til you have gone momentarily deaf from the sound of clapping, and last but most, most importantly you find yourself constantly haunted by that fragrant smell of pollinated flowers thrown dozens at a time at the stage, as if the sweet smell of success can never quite leave your senses."_

"_Well, with that huge beak, no smell will ever escape your 'senses.' And everything doesn't have to be written on this sheet," Santana replied back hotly. "Miss Pillsbury's hand was probably cramping by the time she got to the arts column. Just you wait. If you get on Broadway, I'll simply stroll into the room and they'll forget all about you and they will say-"_

"_GUYS!" Mercedes barked. "Come on. Break it up. We're all friends and we don't want to waste the last half of our last school year bickering like freshmen, do we?" _

_Brittany looked up from her food and shook her head from side to side at Mercedes seriously. _

_Mercedes smiled at her. She hadn't been directing that comment at Brittany, so she certainly hadn't expected her to answer, but she thought it was kind of cute that Brittany had responded to the question, and so seriously. And at least Santana and Rachel had stopped looking at each other like they were about to poke each other's eyes out with the plastic cafeteria utensils. _

"_Well, my quiz revealed that above everything, the arts is my passion, so even though I might not be the best singer in all the world, you have to do what your heart wants," Mercedes said aloud. _

_Mercedes knew that Santana and Rachel weren't going by the same philosophy. She knew that after high school they would study the career that they knew they could be best at. _

_They needed that applause and recognition to live. Mercedes figured she was in for a lot of rejection, but she hoped she'd find her place somewhere. _

_Mercedes couldn't help but notice Brittany was scribbling something down on a napkin in front of her. She picked it up and read it._

"_You're totally awesome at singing, Mercedes!" the note read, with a rainbow and a microphone beside it. _

_Well, Mercedes thought. Rejection ahead or not, I've still got one fan._

_Brittany pulled the note back towards her and added. "You know how your signature of authenticity page on your history assignment went missing?"_

_Mercedes nodded. _

"_Well that was totally me. I wanted your autograph." _

"_All you had to do was ask me, Lil Eve," Mercedes said out loud, breaking the silence. She chuckled. _

_Brittany blushed. She looked over at Santana and saw her staring at her. She gave her a little half smile, but Santana only looked away, pained. They weren't fighting, but things seemed strained between them lately all the same. _

"_What did your quiz say you were gonna be?" Mercedes asked Brittany, trying to include her in the conversation. _

"_I don't know," Brittany said finally after a short silence, "I never got mine back." _

_She turned away from them, curling inwards on herself in shame. At some point, nearly all of her teachers had been frustrated enough to yell at her when she couldn't understand their instructions, saying she wasn't worth bothering with. Finn had called her a retard the other day too, for asking if a parenthesis was the daddy of Miss Pillsbury's Master's thesis. _

_She knew perfectly well that there were never going to be any career mentors coming to speak to her. _

"See these quiz answers?" Miss Pillsbury continued, when Brittany didn't speak, "I didn't need half a page on what you might do in every given situation. I mean, for the question 'You're in the middle of a difficult, critical situation, what do you do?' you have written this long story about a cat being stuck up a tree, and how well you handled it."

"That cat scratched me, but I climbed up and got her down anyway," Brittany said proudly.

"Yes I see, but under it you have a story of being nearly defeated by hot sauce."

"Isn't it just the worst thing ever, when you take a bite of something without knowing, and it hits you like a sneak ninja attack? Or if something's super hot because it's heated up, and you start breathing out smoke and steam like a sick dragon?"

"Brittany, can't you see that I can't do anything with that answer? Not only is it contradictory because you've given me two different answers to the same question, it's too specific. There won't be either cats in trees or hot sauce in your career path."

"But what if I'm meant to be a fireman, or what if I'm a cook, or a police officer with an addiction to shrimp. What then?"

Miss Pillsbury put her hand to her forehead and Brittany sat lower in her seat.

_Why do people always have that reaction to me? Brittany thought. _

The guidance counselor ran her finger down the page and chose another question, selecting it because at least Brittany only had written a one word answer to it.

"For the question, 'If you could work anywhere, where would you like to work?' I can see that you've written 'Disneyland.'"

"But you said anywhere," Brittany grumbled.

"I meant anywhere within reason."

"Then you should have said that!" Brittany said, nodding.

"And I didn't need to hear the details of your sex life when I asked "Are you a social person?'"

Brittany's eyes widened. "You said on the top of the page that that this whole thing was confidential!"

"And it is," Miss Pillsbury assured her, "but your sex life with… this 'banana' person, whoever the fake name may be for, is not relevant here."

_Santana Banana_, Brittany thought.

"And as for Banana, no um… Santana," Miss Pillsbury corrected herself, "You've actually written a lot of your answers about her, and on your test I don't need to know if Santana likes to be challenged or if she's a confident person."

"You said just put anything down if I didn't know the answer."

"Gods of Fandusters, and Bio Green Cleaning products give me strength," Miss Pillsbury moaned internally. "I meant put anything down about _yourself_. This kind of quiz is always about you."

"Oh. Well I didn't know those answers. I don't know stuff like if I'm a 'confident person' or not. At least I had answers about Santana. I had to write something," Brittany said, beginning to look distressed. "You said I had to write something."

There was a silence.

"You know, there's a whole wide world out there, Brittany." Miss Pillsbury said finally. _Away from Santana_, she stressed in her head.

Brittany shrugged. If Miss Pillsbury meant that if she had to trade Santana to have things in the big world, then she didn't want to do that stupid quiz at all.

"Who are you, Brittany?" Miss Pillsbury asked her, trying to scale it back and start with the basics.

Brittany's response was automatic. "I am Brittany S. Pierce. I can dance. I remember stuff that other people forget. I have a Santana, relationship yet unconfirmed. I have two hundred and twenty-six stuffed animals including little ones on keychains. I can hear stuff from very far away. I used to take really good care of my cat, Lord Tubbington, but then he died. I can roll my tongue and cross my eyes."

"Brittany, you've been giving me some variation of that little speech for years now," Miss Pillsbury said impatiently, "and it tells me absolutely nothing."

"Who are you?" she said emphasizing every word.

"You sound like the caterpillar in Alice in Wonderland. And you kind of look like it too," Brittany said widened her eyes to more bug-like standards.

"You're avoiding the question," Miss Pillsbury accused. Brittany had been avoidant from their very first session.

"_How are you coping Brittany? Is anyone giving you a hard time? We need to talk about ways you can cope with your Asperger's at school."_

_Brittany stared at Miss Pillsbury's shoes. They were white, and really, really clean.  
"Do you have a cat?" she asked. _

"_Um…why yes I do," Miss Pillsbury said, surprised._

"_What is your cat's name?" _

"_Um… Mozart. Now as I was saying-" _

"_Is Mozart a boy?" _

"_Yes." _

"_Does he like sleeping? Can he play piano like in the cat videos online? Is he an evil genius? What color bed does he have? Does he dance-dance-dance-da-dance-dance-dance?" Brittany asked clicking her fingers to her own beat. _

_Miss Pillsbury sighed. These cat questions could go on all day. She tolerantly answered a few more, but drew the line when Brittany asked if Mozart had been in a rocket into space._

"If I am, it's because… I don't have an answer," Brittany acknowledged slowly. She wasn't trying to be obnoxious on purpose. She knew this conversation wasn't going very well, but she didn't see how she could fix it. She just wanted Miss Pillsbury to leave her alone.

Mr Schuester then chose that moment to enter the room, and the minute he laid his eyes on Brittany he did a double take. She still had her thumb and index fingers circling her eyes to make them look larger. He also noticed she had her cheerios outfit on backwards.

"Brittany are you okay?" he asked, gently.

Brittany shrugged, sudden tears coming to her eyes. She wiped them away with the back of her hand.

"I know what you're going through," he told her, coming to sit beside her, glancing at both the quiz on the table, and at Emma's irritated expression.

"You do?" Brittany asked, peeking out at him through her hair that she hadn't managed to brush this morning.

"It's frustrating to do a quiz on the subject of yourself and not know any of the answers, isn't it?" he sympathized.

"It makes me feel so stupid," Brittany admitted quietly. "Nobody else had a problem with it."

"That's because it's a really hard test," Mr Schuester told her. "You aren't the first kid that hasn't been sure what to do with her life."

He flipped through the pages looking at her answers, and then frowned.

"This isn't your best work, Brittany."

"Yeah, I know that," Brittany said, sniffling.

"No, I mean you can do better than this. What's going on? Why are you holding yourself back? You know better now than to write these kinds of answers."

Miss Pillsbury softened from behind her desk. As frustrating as she was, Brittany was struggling more than she'd realized. _Maybe I should have offered to explain the questions to her,_ she thought with a pang of guilt. Sometimes it looked like Brittany was coping better that she actually was, but then, problems like this surfaced. More and more evidence was starting to point to the fact that Brittany goofed off when she had to write formal things down, because she was afraid. Both her verbal and written communication had improved over the years, but it seemed Brittany hadn't yet realized the extent of those improvements. Convinced she was still locked behind a brain that couldn't communicate her thoughts, and isolated and humiliated by the constant failures of her past, she still thought herself stupid. She could grow angry enough with herself to throw a test on the floor, or not even try, because being called stupid for her worst effort, was much different to being called stupid for her best.

"I'm not holding myself back!" Brittany cried, shrinking away from them both, and sitting further back in her seat, "you don't know anything!"

He gave her a minute to compose herself, and waited, knowing that she'd think about it if he gave her the time.

"Okay," Brittany said tiredly, giving in after her mild outburst. "I guess maybe you're right. I really didn't know any of the answers, but I knew the stuff I wrote down wasn't right either, I just didn't care."

She paused. "I… wish senior year never had to end."

Mr Schuester scratched his head. "Why is that?"

"Because if it never ends then-" Brittany hesitated.

_Then at some point surely I'd be able to convince Santana to go to prom with me_, she thought, then realized her reason was bigger.

"If we stay in senior year then at least we'll still be together… and she won't have gone far, far away to be a lawyer-doctor-journalist or whatever she said she'd be. We'll still be… on the same level," she said painfully. She feared that Santana would outgrow her if she saw beyond Lima. Others had outgrown her even in this small town.

"You and Santana?" Mr Schuester asked to confirm.

Brittany nodded.

Miss Pillsbury recalled Santana's quiz. Santana was a very smart girl, skilled in manipulation. She had known all the right responses to give to give to fool the quiz into saying she was suited for all professions. Even with all her years of experience, she had hardly known how to score it. There wasn't anything wrong with it on the surface, but in truth, the answers were as useless as Brittany's. She had put the biggest tick in the lawyer column, because in the end, the quiz proved that Santana was a power hungry go-getter and would probably do well in the law courts.

"You can't hold yourself back, because holding yourself back won't make Santana stay," Mr Schuester said.

"I know, and I don't even want to hold her back. It's just that I'm running out of ideas to keep us together, and even if I found the right career, I know it wouldn't be hers so I can't even follow her. That's why I said I didn't want to redo it and change my answers. I just want this all to stop, and put everything on pause."

"Have you two had a fight?"

_No_, Brittany thought. _But we haven't had a date either._ _I thought it was a date when we lived together for that whole week, even though it was just because she needed me after having surgery, I still thought it was like a whole lot of dates. But she says they weren't._ _A date just means any time that you could mark on a calendar that you spent with someone that you love, right?  
_Something clicked in her mind_. And now things are kind of weird between us, and that's probably because they really were dates all along_, she realized. _She's just scared again.  
_"No," she said out loud. "We don't fight much anymore."

'Well no matter what you do, this year won't stop. And if you don't sort yourself out, you'll end up without enough credit to graduate, and then you'll be here repeating senior year on your own, without Santana," he said sternly.

"Okay… okay. I'll think of something."

"Having a goal is a good start," Miss Pillsbury suggested, "and make sure it's one that doesn't involve Santana."

"A goal that's not about Santana," Brittany repeated as if even just the idea of it was foreign to her.

There was a silence.

Mr Schuester spoke up. "You know why I like music Brittany?"

"Why?"

"Well, there's always two sides to it. Even when you're singing in front of a big group of people, there's a part that you're sharing, and a part that is nothing but your own."

Brittany turned her head on one side and looked at him quizzically.

"When you sing a song that you love - it is like a release, and it can bring out all your emotions that have been silenced by all the drama going on around you. You can choose to let other people watch, or you can sing alone, but at the same time you have to accept that the emotion and power that comes out when you sing is carried only by you. Even if you don't know who you are, you have to accept that the emotion expressed by that comes from _somewhere_, and by that token, you know that you're here in the now and that you exist. That's why I've kept encouraging you to sing songs all this time, because one of these days, you're going to find the right song that reveals yourself, and maybe with it, might come a hint about what you want to do with your life."

"Well I haven't done a very good job of that yet," Brittany said, with a half smile, shrugging her shoulders apologetically. "All I've done is cause Glee club riots."

"I disagree," Mr Schuester told her. "You've been getting better and better every time. I mean, you started out singing about not being able to hug every cat in the world-"

"And I stand by the wellbeing of our feline population as one of the most important issues-" Brittany started.

"But it's still not really a deep one," he interrupted. "I mean, you could talk about cats all day and every day, and from what I've heard from Miss Pillsbury you already kind of do. You don't have to reach for that. It doesn't show any sides of you that we can't see on the surface."

He paused. 'Then you and Santana did a duet, and you may not have really connected with that song, but you stood up there and you were really confident."

"I connected with the song," Brittany argued.

Mr Schuester raised his eyebrow at her.

"Okay. I don't really know what it means to um…get up in her bush like Dubya," Brittany said, reciting the lyrics to Build me up, Buttercup. "But I still knew it was a song about being in love."

"But maybe not _your_ kind of being in love," the teacher said.

"Yeah."

"And then, in the last solo you did, you managed to express Santana's feelings really well, and you told us what you thought she really wanted."

_And you don't know why, but you're dying to try, you wanna kiss the girl_, Brittany thought.

"It's your turn Brittany. You're ready. Use music to explore who you are."

"Yes," Miss Pillsbury interjected. "And when you feel like you've found some answers that you're missing, you come here, and no matter what time of day it is, or what I'm doing, I will score your quiz for you."

"It's my turn," Brittany said, trying out the words on her tongue, having no clue as to why tears were still rolling down her face.

* * *

Brittany sat outside Miss Pillsbury's office trying to think. She'd been given a note that said she didn't have to go back to class.

She caught sight of Artie rolling down the hall and shut her eyes hoping that if she couldn't see him, then he would have no chance of seeing her. When she opened them, he was right in front of her, peering into her face. She sighed.

She figured it must have been her outfit that gave her away. That was what she got for wearing all these bright colors, there was nothing she could ever do to blend.

"What's wrong, Britt?" he asked her, moving back now that she was staring at him, or staring past him, he wasn't sure. She did look quite vacant, perhaps even more so than usual.

Brittany only shrugged. She hoped he'd just go away. She had to think. She had so many voices in her head that she didn't want any more in her ears. The sound of Miss Pillsbury and Mr Schuester telling her to get her act together on repeat, was already more than enough.

"Come on, we're friends right?" he said to her. He knew they hadn't spoken to each other very much, but they were at least part of the same social circle.

"I think so," Brittany said finding her voice. Artie really was nice and he smiled at her sometimes. Just because she was feeling lost and he wasn't who she wanted to see right now, didn't mean that she could take all that out on him. "How come you're not in class?" she finally asked, curiously, trying to be more polite.

"Oh, I have a pass to see Miss Pillsbury. She's been seeing me ever since I got it into my head that I was going to be the first subject of a brave experimental therapy, and I would soon walk again."

Brittany blinked at him. _Experiments? Science?_ She thought. _That could only mean robots, right?_

"Is your dad Stephen Hawking," she asked. She thought the resemblance between Artie and the physicist was uncanny.

_Too uncanny_, she realized after a beat. Maybe Stephen Hawking had created Artie out of mechanical parts, and used his own DNA and memories to clone himself as a son, just like in that Astroboy movie. She had heard Stephen on the news saying that robots were going to take over one day, so maybe he was getting in quick to make sure it was the 'Artie' model. Maybe there were still some bugs to work out with mechanical legs, or they'd got in a bad batch at Robots R Us. Brittany knew her mind was wandering, but nobody had proved her wrong yet.

Artie laughed. "You're funny," he said, "and I wish. He's like my idol, no I'm just kidding, I wouldn't trade my real dad for anything, he's always been there for me."

Brittany turned to look at him then. "You and your dad really get along?" she asked as if the concept wasn't possible.

"Yeah. Do you get along with yours?" he asked conversationally.

"I don't know who my dad is," Brittany admitted. "It's just me, my mom and my sister."

She paused.

"Santana doesn't have hers around either," she told him interjecting the other girl into the conversation like she always did, "but his name is Carlos."

"I'm sorry," Artie told her.

"Yeah, Santana's always been pretty sad about that," she said.

"What about you and your dad?" Artie asked, feeling like Santana had become a third person in their conversation, and that she was almost more present than Brittany was.

"I don't know. I've never really thought about it much. I mean it's not like it is with Santana. I can't miss him like she misses her dad. I've never known him so I have nothing to miss."

"You can miss the idea of something," Artie said. "Even if I had never known what its like to walk, I think I would still wish I knew what it felt like. As it is, I barely remember."

_I miss the idea of a lot of things with Santana,_ Brittany realized. _I wish I knew what it felt like to hold hands with her walking to my locker after class, and what it felt like to then turn and kiss her like it was nothing. And if only we could dance together at prom. _

"You look sad," Artie commented. "You always seem sad lately."

"How… um…," Brittany started.

"Because I watch you," Artie interrupted.

"You're always looking at _her_, but sometimes I watch you watch _her_," he said, not bothering to name who they were talking about. "And you seem extra sad lately. I mean, when Mr Schue asks you to suggest songs in Glee club, you've actually been suggesting songs that you can't really dance to, and that's not like you."

"I don't feel like dancing much lately," Brittany murmured. "And there's nothing wrong with Angel by Sarah McLachlan, it's a good song" she said to him, remembering her last nominated song choice. "You can't go wrong swaying in the background," she said aloud.

"Exactly. You're kind of the swaying zombie version of Brittany right now. Trust me, I'm a gamer and I know my zombies. There's the glassy vacant look…-"

_The one that's always somehow directed her way,_ he thought.

"And there's the uncoordinated shuffle in place of the power moves, and finally there are the monosyllabic answers, and the skipping of class and Glee club."

"I'm going to stop skipping class," Brittany said, "so I can graduate. Because being here all on my own isn't going to solve anything, and I know that now."

"Right. Okay, but what's getting you down?" Artie said rolling closer to her, trying to figure her out.

"It's not important," Brittany said.

Artie gave her a look over the top of his glasses.

"Sorry," Brittany sighed, "I'm so used to pretending I don't mind about things, even to myself."

"So don't pretend. Tell me."

Brittany fiddled with her books for a moment, tracing over the letters on the front. "I guess I'm tired of things changing, and of things staying the same," Brittany admitted. "But mostly I'm just tired."

"Sorry, but that kind of makes no sense, Britt."

_All the things that I say always make sense to her_, Brittany thought sadly. She tried to explain anyway. "Before we know it, high school will be over, and that's scary."

"I know. What about it scares you the most?" he asked, trying to comfort her.

Brittany bit her lip and said what was on her mind. "What if I can't fix everything by the end of senior year? What if everything stays the same, and then everything changes?"

Artie tried to follow. It sounded like she meant that she was afraid of things staying the same until school finished, and then life pulling them in different directions from that point. He voiced this out loud.

"Sort of like if we graduated tomorrow, you wouldn't be ready, but you're also afraid that when we graduate, you won't be ready then either?"

"Yeah," Brittany exhaled. "I just need more time." _She just needs more time_, she thought.

"What do you even have to fix, Britt?" he asked. "You're perfect."

He inhaled sharply. It had just slipped out. He had never really understood why everyone said Brittany was so weird. She was one of those perfect, blonde and unattainable girls. He wasn't sure about her intelligence, but at least she knew who Stephen Hawking was. He knew she was completely out of his league, and it wasn't like she didn't have an angry dark haired bodyguard that told him to fuck off in both English and Spanish whenever he had ever tried to get near her to remind him of that.

Brittany sighed and shook her head. She pulled off one of the glitter stars that had become stuck to her hand. They were falling off all the prom posters, and turning up everywhere. She had found them in her hair, in the toes of her shoes and down her top, and privately Brittany was pretty sure she'd swallowed at least a couple.

"Is someone taking you to prom?" he asked, seeing her eyes turn to the poster.

Brittany didn't answer, but her face took on the saddest look that Artie had ever seen.

"I'm just tired now," she repeated. "I'm tired of everything being so hard."

Artie didn't know what to say, so he said nothing, and they sat in silence. Brittany played with her own fingers, twisting them up in her hair.

"Do a duet with me?" Artie said suddenly. "Something loud, obnoxious and fun? I'll sing, you just knock yourself out dancing."

"I'm not Finn," Brittany huffed. "I don't have four extra limb-tentacles and a garden in the shade under the sea. I won't knock myself out."

"It's a figure of speech, Britt. How about it though? Hey, what are you doing?"

Brittany had wandered off to one of the bottom row lockers nearby that was hanging open, and was slowly backing herself into it. It was one of the ones used for storage so it didn't have a shelf in the middle, so she easily folded herself up into it neatly, and closed the door.

"Brittany!" He wheeled himself closer to her. "What if you get stuck in there?"

He peered through the vent holes, seeing bright blue eyes staring back at him.

"I don't mind, it's safe in here."

He knocked on it three times. "You remind me of a wild animal, fleeing from the hunters in a little hole. What is it called, a den, a burrow?"

"I'm not afraid of hunters, I'm just going to hibernate like a bear. I should have had that extra packet of Cheetos, because I'm not coming out all winter. I don't know what season we're in right now, but if I stay in here long enough, winter will come eventually and pass me by."

"You what? Hibernate? What?" Artie stuttered.

"Sometimes Cheetos grow on trees. When they do they're called Treetos. I should have gathered them up while the squirrels were gathering their nuts, and hidden some in here, for the long winter nights."

He eventually caught up with her logic. "Ugh, I get really claustrophobic so I don't even know how you do that," Artie told her, making a face. "But seriously, Brittany, come on out. Someone might come by and really lock you in. You know what people are like here, they have a lot of hate and a lot of time," he said nervously.

"I don't care, I like it in here."

"Brittany. I'm serious."

"Okay," Brittany squeezed her way out, and saw Artie give a sigh of relief and began to clean his glasses.

Brittany stared at him. He had been perspiring like he really had been worried about her, and his glasses had kind of fogged up. Brittany felt bad and wanted to make it up to him. Nothing would happen if they did a duet, right?

"About the duet… well I'd like to. It sounds nice," she told him.

"I bet you've missed dancing, deep down," Artie told her, his eyes shining with excitement the second he realized that she had said yes.

Brittany looked at him in the eyes for the first time since they had started talking. "Just like you miss walking, same as how Santana misses her dad," Brittany comprehended suddenly seeing at him in a new light as if he had suddenly gained an entire dimension to his personality in her eyes. He had his own pain too, just like Santana did. It was easy to forget that the rest of the world hurt too sometimes, not just _her_. Sometimes, other people didn't even seem real.

"Just like you miss Santana," Artie offered, stating the obvious. He could guess that whatever Brittany was going through probably involved Santana. It somehow always seemed to.

"I always miss her whenever I'm not with her. And sometimes I even miss her when I am with her, when she's not herself."

_I miss you when you're gone from the room_, Artie thought. _I never realized how much I'd miss you, but now that you're not turning up to Glee club as much, I look around for you twice as much as before and I hope that you will be there. _

He said it out loud. "I miss you, Brittany S. Pierce. The real one, not the zombie version."

"I can only miss the idea of 'Brittany,' because I don't even know who that is," Brittany said, groaning. Why was all this so important lately? Or maybe it had always been important and she just hadn't known it.

* * *

"I can't do a duet with you today Artie," Brittany said coming to stand by him at his locker.

He shut it with a bang. "Sorry," he apologized when she jumped. "It's just really hard to reach properly." He took in her disheveled appearance. She looked like she'd just been asleep, and there was a red imprint on her face like she'd been lying on something uncomfortable.

"Why can't you dance with me today?" he asked, coming back to the issue at hand.

"Because I have a song that I have to sing instead. It came to me while asleep." She touched her face gingerly. "We had gym, but we went outside to play baseball instead, and I fell asleep on a bunch of equipment. I won't forget the bat. I now have to begin my long recovery from baseball bat molestation."

"How did you manage that, Britt?"

"I don't know. I wasn't playing today because I hurt my wrist, and I thought that pile of catcher's mitts looked kind of comfortable to rest on for just a moment, and they seemed okay at first but I paid for it when I woke up," she winced. "And then I looked around and everyone was gone."

"You still look tired," Artie commented. "I'll give you a ride to Glee club?"

"Santana did that once," Brittany said. "She gave me a ride on wheelchair week."

She accepted the ride from Artie apprehensively, and perched on his lap.

"I remember that," Artie said. "She ate all our cupcakes."

"No she didn't," Brittany said loyally, feeling Artie's hold on to her. She stiffened, remembering that when Santana had given her a ride, she had made them fly down the hall. Brittany shut her eyes. When they had been going as fast as they could go, Santana's arms had come around her, holding her tight.

"You're supposed to keep both hands on the wheel or wheel(s) when you drive," she told him. "It's pretty much the only thing I got right in Driver's Ed."

"Sorry," Artie apologized, wheeling as slowly as he could to make it last longer. "Good luck with your song," he told her, feeling her tense up more and more the closer they got to the choir room.

"Thank you," Brittany told him, standing up and inhaling deeply. "It's a song about telling people your story."

"Wait," he called when she made a move to go in.

Brittany spun around. Her eyes darted around suddenly. "You know I didn't practice," she said. "Do you think I should have practiced?"

"No, it's only in front of us. You'll be fine. Just… kneel down," he said gesturing to her with his hand.

Brittany hesitated, then knelt beside him.

Artie ran his hands over her hair to smooth it down, and Brittany patiently closed her eyes and kept still until he had finished. It had got kind of messy while she was asleep.

"There, now when we go in together, no one will mistake you for having after-sex hair and blame me for it," he joked.

_Oh my god!_ Brittany thought. _Artie is a lifesaver. That could have been so embarrassing, and you can totally get expelled for having sex on school grounds. _ "Thanks Artie, really," Brittany said again with more feeling and walked inside the choir room.

"I've got a song, Mr Schue," she told him, unable to prevent her hands from shaking and twisting together in front of her.

"But Mr Schue," Tina started, standing up. "I-"

"Sit down Tina!" Mr Schuester said quickly. "Go ahead Brittany."

"Is it a Disney song again?" a few voices asked from the crowd.

"You better not be singing 'A Whole New World' Rachel threatened. That one is on my list."

Brittany shook her head and started singing a whimsical, softer version of a song she had managed to learn all the words to the first time she had even heard it. It almost sounded like a lullaby. She began letting memories fill her up inside, where they had only been emptiness moments before.

"_All of these lines across my face  
Tell you the story of who I am  
So many stories of where I've been  
And how I got to where I am"_

She had barely managed to get the first sentence out before the first tears leaked from her eyes. She didn't feel like she was crying, and she didn't sound like she was crying either. But it seemed that her eyes now had a mind of their own, and she had to breathe deeper than usual to keep going.

_"But these stories don't mean anything  
When you've got no one to tell them to  
It's true...I was made for you"_

Brittany deliberately didn't look at anyone, instead fixing her eyes on the reflective glass on Mr Schuester's office door.

"_I climbed across the mountain tops  
Swam all across the ocean blue  
I crossed all the lines and I broke all the rules  
But baby I broke them all for you  
Because even when I was flat broke  
You made me feel like a million bucks  
You do  
I was made for you"_

The Glee club's eyes were all on her. Many of them felt moved, almost transfixed by this side of her that they had never seen before. Brittany could be so quiet sometimes, and so unresponsive. They had no idea she was capable of much emotion at all, let alone this much. They couldn't stop staring, their interest captured by the rather rare sight.

_"You see the smile that's on my mouth  
It's hiding the words that don't come out  
And all of my friends who think that I'm blessed  
They don't know my head is a mess  
No, they don't know who I really am  
And they don't know what  
I've been through like you do  
And I was made for you..."_

Brittany choked up on her favorite line and could hardly even begin to sing the last verse. She tried, but the first words came out in broken whispers. Clearly feeling emotional, Rachel's face twisted up and she looked as if she was about to cry just as much with her. Mr Schuester gave her a small encouraging smile, trying to let her know that she didn't have to finish it if she didn't want to, but Brittany shook her head at him, determined. Within seconds, Mercedes was on her feet, and had come to stand beside her. Brittany reached for her hand, and Mercedes took it immediately, as if she'd been hoping all along that was what Brittany would do. Both feeling stronger, they sung the last verse together in harmony.

"_All of these lines across my face  
__Tell you the story of who I am  
__So many stories of where I've been  
__And how I got to where I am  
__But these stories don't mean anything  
__When you've got no one to tell them to  
__It's true...I was made for you."_

On the very last word, Brittany chanced her first look at Santana since she'd first entered the room. She was crying too, but was trying as hard as she could to keep her face blank and expressionless. It wasn't working very well. Her makeup was running, and every now and then Santana would furiously swipe at her face, smudging it a little bit more. More than anything, Brittany wanted brush her tears away more gently than how Santana was it doing herself, and to hold her and ask her what was wrong. When their eyes met, Santana held her gaze for a moment before looking away. As soon as they broke eye contact the Glee club started clapping for her, or maybe they had been clapping already and Brittany had been too involved in what Santana was doing to notice. She was surprised. It was the first time she had ever been given such a sincere and heartfelt sort of applause like this.

She hadn't sung it for applause. And she hadn't even sung it for Santana. The only person left she could have sung it for, had to be herself.

That sick, sad and tired feeling she'd had lately, hadn't left, but a part of it had lifted with the song.

She looked over at Mr Schuester with wide eyes, and he dismissed the class quickly and pointed her into his office.

Before she could get far, Artie stopped her. "That was great,' he said, his eyes sparkling behind his glasses. Brittany shrugged at him bashfully, and only made it three steps before his hand was again on her wrist.

"Come with me to Breadstix after school to celebrate? Just as friends? It will be fun, and you deserve it. I'll tell you what happened to the dinosaurs again if you like?" he said speaking quickly, working off the intensity of the emotion in the room to persuade her.

If she didn't say yes now, she probably never would.

He also knew it was a bit manipulative, dangling dinosaur stories in her face like that. Brittany was like Alice to his white rabbit for dinosaur stories lately. She was so curious, and she seemed prepared to follow sources of information on the prehistoric beings anywhere.

Artie knew he really had only the most basic ideas about dinosaurs, but he would spin dozens more tales, if only it would impress Brittany like it had the day before.

Brittany was torn. She liked Artie and she was dying to find out what happened next on 'Dinosaur Shore,' because that drama was just getting good. Snookiraptor had just laid two dozen eggs that had gone missing on a trip to the hot springs volcano spas, where several big burly Stegosauri's were waiting to get their club tail on. Finding out what happened after that cliffhanger, was definitely a priority. But honestly, she especially wanted to go out with Artie, because going out meant she couldn't sit around and wait all night for Santana to call her. Not being alone also meant she might not get _as_ depressed when that call never came.

_I'm so tired of waiting_, Brittany thought, looking wistfully at Santana. _Give me a sign that you really want to be with me. Please? Give me a sign you want me and I'll stay with you instead tonight, _she pleaded in her mind. _We can go on another one of those dates that aren't supposed to be dates_, she promised her with her eyes. _You can tell me all your stories instead._

Santana didn't move, keeping her eyes on her and watching her sideways, and after a while Artie began to get impatient waiting for an answer.

"Brittany," he asked again.

_Please Santana_, Brittany begged with her eyes.

_Please Brittany_, Artie begged with his eyes.

Without a word, Santana turned, and walked out the room.

"Okay," Brittany said quietly, directing the answer to Artie. "Okay," she said again almost defiantly to Santana's ghost that lingered in the room. She should be able to have a friend anyway right? Regardless of the fact that Santana got jealous of all her friends, she should still have them.

"Yeah?" Artie said, smiling at her.

'_I know I stand in line until you think you have the time to spend an evening with me.'_

Brittany tried to smile back at him. Hanging out with Artie would be fun, although she couldn't help but feel bad because Artie was being so nice, and kept offering her things that she hadn't done anything to earn.

Seeing her teacher tap his foot, she finally followed an impatient Mr Schuester into his office, and they sat down.

"I'm glad I did that song, but I know I didn't get it right," she said before he could speak. "I must have blown it because I still don't really know what to write on that quiz or tell Miss Pillsbury."

Mr Schuester held up a hand. "You remember what I told you the first time I asked you to sing? I told you that I knew you had a big heart, and when we all saw it you would blow us all away. I think you just did," he told her.

Brittany's mouth fell open, the words she had been poised to say dying on her lips. She smiled.

"Tell me what the song was about," he said, slipping into his teacher role.

"I sung about being a girl who loves a lot, who has more to her than what people think. It's also a song about being willing to do anything for someone."

"You like helping Santana, don't you?" Mr Schuester said, an idea springing into his head.

Brittany nodded. It went without saying.

"Do you think you might like helping other people like her? Or people like yourself? Or just other people who are feeling lost or confused?"

"Probably," Brittany agreed, looking around for all the people he was talking about as if they might suddenly come into the office in droves.

"There's a whole big world out there, Brittany," Mr Schuester told her, repeating something he'd heard Emma say.

"They aren't going to try and cram themselves into this office, right?" Brittany said, wondering if she should stand on a chair or something to stay out of the way of a stampede.

The teacher didn't respond. "Wait here," he said.

He reappeared with Miss Pillsbury in tow. She was carrying a brochure for a local community center, and some others with general information about psychology. Brittany picked up the first brochure and pointed at the third picture which showed children dancing. "Why are they dancing?" she asked. The other pictures kind of looked like they were at a school. Did this place have a Glee club too?

"It's part of helping them," Miss Pillsbury told them. "This program is about helpers doing all kinds of things with kids who are sad. Some sessions you would talk to them about their problems, but other times you would draw or paint with them or teach them how to dance to make them happier and give them confidence."

"You can really do that?" Brittany asked excitedly. "Like, as a job?"

"Yep," the guidance counselor smiled at her enthusiasm.

"Why are the kids sad though?" Brittany asked worriedly.

"There are all sorts of reasons," Miss Pillsbury replied. "Maybe their family has split up and they're having a hard time dealing with that. Maybe somebody is being nasty to them at home or at school. Or maybe they have a disorder like Autism or Down's Syndrome and need to talk to someone about it."

Brittany was convinced. "Can I help them? How do you get in there?" she asked.

"Well that's the thing," Emma said. "You're going to need a college degree in psychology; you need one to even to be able to volunteer at this particular place. They're quite strict about who they let near the kids. I know the lady in charge, we actually studied together for years."

"Do you think I could get one of those? Those collage things," Brittany asked, mispronouncing the word to sound more like an art project, her nerves plain.

Emma wasn't sure. Brittany's anxiety with putting anything down formally on paper, stemming from her fear of being humiliated by other people for her 'differentness,' could easily hold her back. Emma wasn't sure if Brittany would start goofing off at college, she wouldn't put it past her to start writing everything in crayon. She seemed to think that if she couldn't say what she wanted, she might as well cause a train wreck instead and draw a picture of a cat on the page, giving people the impression that she had meant to screw up all along. Honestly, Emma didn't have the confidence in Brittany that the girl needed to hear, so she turned to Will, helplessness written all over her face.

"Yes. I think so," Mr Schuester said to Brittany confidently.

Emma breathed a sighed of relief. _Thank god he's here,_ she thought.

Mr Schuester kept talking. "To get a place in a good college you need to work on your GPA because to be chosen over other applicants, you need good scores. You know what that means, right?"

"Poison darts?" Brittany asked, mentally eliminating her competition.

"No more sleeping in class and no more skipping classes okay? And no more skipping Glee club because you need an extracurricular for your application."

_And no more staring at Santana in class,_ Brittany thought. She'd never had something of her own before and it made her kind of excited. She vowed that she would work harder than anyone. Today, she had realized earlier how little she knew about where she lived. She could start there.

_I'll have the full 50 states of America memorized by tonight_, she promised herself. _By tomorrow I will know all the presidents. But for now, I'll write a new description of myself for Miss Pillsbury, _Brittany thought.

Hours later, Brittany had come up with a new definition of herself on a piece of paper. It wasn't long enough for her college application yet, but it was a start.

"_I live in organized chaos. I am an idiot savant. Most of what I say is random logic. I am the most genuine imitation of a human being you will ever meet. I'm old and young at the same time. _

_I'm her blue rose. _

_And I like helping people."_

* * *

"I should have told her that I didn't want her to go to Breadstix with that freaking nerdbomb," Santana slurred, shifting slightly from where she was lying on Pucks couch.

"Well, why didn't you?" Puck questioned her.

"I don't even fucking know anymore," Santana said. "Give me more, I'm not drunk enough to be having this conversation."

"Well you started it," Puck reminded her.

"My nose is burning," Santana complained.

"Then lay off the meth."

There was a silence, broken only by the clinking of bottles and the shuffling of bodies.

"About Brittany, I don't know… part of me was just an idiot, but the other part of me just wanted her to have a nice person to take her to prom," Santana admitted. "We're not nice people," she said extending her body on top of Pucks.

"Whatever you say, Santana." Puck said, throwing an arm over her loosely. He liked to think of himself as a nice guy, even more so now he'd had Beth. That kind of thing changes you. It made him realize how much he was capable of caring. The second he saw that tiny little person he had made, it was like a whole new part of him opened up inside.

Make no mistake, he knew he wasn't the same guy anymore.

_And, as for Santana_, he thought. _She's a freaking sappy little romance novel sometimes, when it comes to Brittany._

* * *

"Alabama, Alaska, Arizona, Arkansas, California, Colorado, Earth, Mars, Saturn, Jupiter… ugh!" Brittany exclaimed. It was her third night on memorizing the fifty states, and the planets of the Solar System kept tripping her up every time she begun the list.

"Do you want some help, Britt?" Artie asked from the other side of the room. He'd come over to help her study, and surprisingly she really did want to actually study. It kind of reminded him of that Legally Blonde movie. The fact that Brittany said Santana was probably going to study how to become a lawyer, only extended the picture of this in his mind. He imagined Brittany in a little pink suit holding a tiny dog, chasing Santana off to college. Those two had the weirdest relationship, like Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee, or like two Siamese twins or something.

Artie figured Brittany just had low confidence, and needed help standing on her own feet. _Then she might break away from Santana_, he decided. _Hopefully no surgery will be required to separate them_. Besides, Elle Woods totally came into her own at the end of the movie, so maybe Brittany would too. And that little Spanish cat of hers would look good in a pink handbag.

He covered a smirk with his hand, then let his hand fall away when he looked over and saw Brittany hunched on the floor, her face screwed up in concentration.

"Try singing it?" Artie suggested. "Give it a tune. Maybe you won't get tripped up then."

"Alright," Brittany said. The fifty states of America were all now going to see a new life… as a rap.

* * *

"You know Puck, I'll cut his balls off, feed them to him, and then scratch his eyes out with my fingernails, and _then_ kill him if he thinks he can ever hurt her… like I've hurt her," she trailed off suddenly and reached for Puck's bottle of Jack.

"Artie's my buddy," Puck said. "He really is a decent guy."

"I'm such a loser," Santana said getting up and stumbling around when she heard her phone go off.  
"Artie asked her out on a date the other day to this really expensive place that I can't afford, and she didn't even know it was a date or how formal it would be compared to Breadstix, so I actually helped her pick out a dress for her to wear tonight."

She read her message. "Ugh, and now she's thanking me because she would have been really embarrassed turning up in a t-shirt with tigers all over it like she'd planned."

"What gives, Santana?" Puck asked. "All this chat about you and Brittany gets me hot and horny but it's getting kind of old as well."

"She held his hand in class today," Santana said, too out of it to hear what he said. "It was sickening. He looked like he was about to blow right there just from the contact."

"You've got two hands, and so does she," Puck pointed out. "Let's all have a giant handholding orgy," he said thrusting back and forward to prove his point. "I haven't given up on us all having a threesome, and if I had to, I'd let Artie watch."

"You're gross, Puck," Santana said, tiredly.

"But you love me," he said.

"Whatever. Look, I'm gonna crash here again, okay?"

"We gonna fuck?"

"You got pills?"

"Nope."

"Then no," Santana told him, "and I'm not even drunk enough to care that I'm still here."

* * *

"…Wisconsin and Wyoming!" Brittany cheered, pumping her fist in the air, beginning to gain confidence that she could memorize anything that she had to for her tests. Geography was pretty much her worst subject ever. There were just so many places with so many names and she had never been able to remember them all. But, brains were a powerful thing and she was going to use hers to its maximum capacity now. Forget Wonder Woman, the real power was in the human brain, and she knew exactly what her costume was going to be next Halloween.

Now to move on to history and list those presidents. She was going for gold. "George Washington, John Adams, Thomas-…"

"Hey, you did good," Artie said affectionately, rolling over to her and interrupting her train of thought. "But I have a question. Why are there plastic dinosaurs encased in ice in my freezer?"

"For your research," Brittany deadpanned without missing a beat. "And Stephen's research, too."

"I see," Artie said even though he didn't. "How is the math going?"

"Which one is Y and which one is X again?" Brittany asked, picking up her homework.

"Y is the tall straight up one, remember? X is the sideways one."

Brittany frowned. "It's not sticking," she said dejectedly.

"In your mind? Okay, Y stands for Yosemite Sam, and X stands for the box office sales of the movie Xanadu. Who stands as tall as he can?" Artie said making a rhyme.

"Sam! And Xanadu flatlined. I can see it in my head now, so it makes sense!"

"Right, so label your figure first, and then look at the formula-"

"Artie, are you going to be a teacher?" _Oh my god, he won't be needing all those dinosaurs then,_ Brittany thought. _I will delegate all the research projects I've set up for him to someone else_, she decided, using a big word she had found in the dictionary.

"Yep," he grinned. "But I want to teach computer studies."

Brittany nodded seriously. "Computers are hard," she said. "The world needs you. You should make it your mission to make sure that everyone in Lima, even the old ladies, can turn on a computer by next Christmas. That would be amazing."

"Nah, I want to see those ladies writing source code. That would be impressive."

Brittany gave him a blank look.

"Forget the presidents then, we're going to have a computer lesson instead. Now what's the internet for?"

"Sharing porn, and cat videos," Brittany said eagerly. "Maybe even the two combined if you're adventurous."

"Oh boy," Artie groaned. "Hang on, porn? What kind of porn have you seen?"

"All kinds. I even saw Rachel writing some porn for the internet the other day. The internet likes both words and videos when it comes to its need to swallow porn."

"You didn't," Artie gasped.

"Oh, yes I did. I saw her hunched over one of the computers in the library. She was typing really fast like she was all worked up, and when she realized I was there she blushed and she didn't want me to see what she'd written, except I saw anyway."

"And what did it say?"

"You know, stuff like 'The Phantom's manroot was swollen huge with desire, and Christine Daae, the flower of his affection, bloomed in anticipation. What _WAS_ that?"

"I believe that's called 'fanfiction' Britts, not porn," Artie said shaking with laughter at Brittany's dramatic impersonation.

Brittany stared at him, open mouthed.

"It isn't all like that, that's just Rachel's writing style. Trust me, we're all sick of hearing her dramatically sing songs from the Phantom of the Opera soundtrack in Glee club. But I had no idea she was writing things online. Thank god she doesn't insist on doing readings of her own material!"

"You should have seen what those characters did next," Brittany said scandalously. "I will never ever look at any phantoms I meet the same way. Or Rachel."

"I didn't know Rachel had it in her."

Brittany smirked. "You never do, you know. I might even go on that website one day and write a very graphic sex scene."

"Is that a threat," Artie joked. "You gonna top 'the manroot?"

"I might just have it in me," Brittany agreed.

"Never," Artie said, pushing her shoulder playfully. "You're too cute for that."

* * *

"It's fucking disgusting," Santana fumed.

Puck sighed, "What?"

"They even want me to be a bridesmaid at their wedding. How long has she even known him for anyway? Like, a few months?"

"Brittany… and Artie?" Puck asked. "Cripple-bro moves fast."

"NO," Santana choked on her drink. "I meant my mom and Jorge. What? Do you know something I don't know about Artie and Brittany?"

Puck shrugged.

"Spill it, Puckerman," Santana demanded.

"Well, Artie asked me to back him up on guitar so he could win Brittany over," Puck, said almost nervously, checking to see if Santana had anything she could hit him with that could cause a fatal wound.

"What song was it," Santana groaned, covering her face.

Puck hesitated. "She will be loved, by Maroon 5."

"Well. Thanks Puck," Santana said sarcastically. "You couldn't have told him to sing um… 'Screwing you on the beach at night' by The Bloodhound Gang or something that would have made her run screaming?"

_And running right back to me_, she thought.

Puck started bobbing his head and singing. "I would show up for our pottery class dressed like a pirate with John Water's mustache. On a unicorn that shits your name in stars."  
"Hmm Brittany would probably find some way to twist that around into being romantic," he added, after a beat.

Santana just glared at him, hoping he'd get the hint.

Puck shrugged, pushing her back with one hand, raising his joint with the other. "Hey, bros before hoes," he defended. "And what do you mean about her running right back to you? She was here just before."

"She was just looking for her shoes," Santana grumbled at him.

"Oh, come on, Santana how thick can you be? Why would her shoes be at my place?"

"She loses things everywhere."

"She probably took hers off and walked barefoot all the way over here just to have an excuse to see you."

Santana looked at the door that Brittany had left wide open. "I shouldn't have let her walk home barefoot in the dark," she said, smacking her hand against the back of the couch.

"Yeah, I texted Artie, he's going to pick her up."

"Why would you even do that?" Santana mumbled.

"So you don't lose your shit and follow her out the door."

Santana sighed and leaned back. She took a long drag and passed the joint back to Puck.

"Did she, you know… did she like Artie's song?" she asked, biting her bottom lip.

"Couldn't tell. Her face was as blank as her mind."

"You just don't see her properly. I can read her like a book. And you must have missed the song she did for Glee the other day."

"Yeah, I was picking up this weed," he told her, blowing the smoke out of his mouth in a perfect ring.

Santana leaned forward and breathed it in, second hand. "I'm pretty sure they're together now," she said. "I don't know whether to kill him to thank him." _To_ _thank him, for being the decent person I'm not, or kill him for it? _she debated, sounding vaguely Shakespearian.

"I don't care you know," Puck said. "About you and Brittany. I've never given any fucks. I'm not the jealous type."

"There's nothing going on between me and Brittany," Santana said automatically, and with bite. "I just don't want to see her get hurt, and so what if we hold hands in class sometimes, that's nothing even worth troubling your permanently horny little brain about. I'm really hungry. Do you have any food. You never have any food."

"Santana, you might be thick, but I'm not," he told her.

"Fuck you," Santana told him, past caring at this point but throwing it out there anyway.

"You and Brittany don't bother me. You're a free agent to do what you want. And I know you'll always be back here when the sun sets, because you and I are the same, we're like two sharks swimming in the shallow end, not deep enough to meet up with the rest of the world. We'll always come back to each other. You can only avoid someone for so long in a small pool."

Santana rolled her eyes.

"I mean it," Puck said to her. "Santana you're probably like my soul mate. You're super hot and you let me do heaps of stuff that other girls don't. And you've actually kind of become my best friend as well."

He thought about this. Some of the stuff they did together was kind of intense actually. He'd long since worked out she was kind of into masochism, and being forced into being vulnerable. She liked it when he tied her up, or blindfolded her or choked her from behind. It worked, so long as she was deprived of something. She didn't seem to tense up as much then, as some emotional barrier had already been forcibly broken. That was just what they did when they ran out of weed, though.

"Yeah, right," Santana said, dropping her eyes.

"Truth," Puck insisted. "We get up to some crazy shit together and I trust you not to rat me out on it. And you don't see me as a complete screw up."

"You want to debate that last one?" Santana challenged.

"Yep. Then we can have angry sex. Best kind," he grinned. "But seriously Santana, when school ends, I'm getting you out of here. I love you, you know. You won't be stuck in Lima. You'll be gone before the wedding. Maria and Jorge will have to find some other sucker to be bridesmaid."

There was a long pause. "You promise?" Santana asked vulnerably, laying her head on his chest.

"I swear on Beth," he told her.

* * *

"Artie! Artie! Guess what! I defeated the snake demon on level 29!" Brittany was beaming as she ran into his kitchen.

Artie was shocked. He'd left her alone for a little while to make them milkshakes and apparently she had worked miracles in the meantime.

"No. Way," he shook his head in disbelief.

"Yes!"

"How'd you do it?" he asked in wonder.

"Um…," Brittany's forehead wrinkled, "I just mashed the buttons together."

Artie couldn't help but smile. The girl always had this sort of lucky magic about her, even if she lacked any kind of technique at video games. She was starting to look at him as if he was magic too and he liked that a lot. It had all started when he'd tricked her into going on a date with him after one of their study sessions and he'd taken her to the most expensive restaurant in their city, courtesy of his dad who liked Brittany a lot.

He moved his chair over beside the couch, hoping she'd come and sit beside him. She didn't, and instead she began to run her fingers through her textbooks that now seemed to have made as many appearances at his place as Brittany had. A disk fell between the pages.

"What's this," Brittany asked, picking it up.

"Oh, that's a copy of my fan made Dr Who music videos."

Brittany giggled. Artie was so cute, but she hadn't understood a word of what he had just said. "Did you just tell me the punch line to a knock-knock joke without asking the question? Because I've totally done that," she said.

"Um…"

"Wait hang on I've got one too. Knock Knock."

"Who's there," Artie asked playing along. _If it's Santana 'at the door,' I might actually scream_, he thought.

Brittany surprised him. "Adele," she told him, knocking on the wall to demonstrate a diva knocking loudly.

"Adele, who?" he asked.

"A Del computer," she said, proud of her joke. She knew Artie loved computers.

Artie didn't laugh.

"No, it's funny, because you wouldn't expect a computer to knock at your door," she informed him, ready to draw a picture if he still didn't get it."

"But Adele herself, is sure to be standing out there demanding to be let in," Artie asked her dryly.

"Totally," Brittany agreed smiling, missing his sarcasm.

He gave up. "So what did you and Ms Pillsbury talk about the other day. You've been having all these meetings with her haven't you? Anything I should know about?"

"Yeah, I read a letter from my Granny and I found out some things, but I've got to tell _her_ about them first."

Artie sighed. _Santana again_. _Why am I always still the third wheel when she isn't even here? _

"Why," he asked.

"Because I promised her when I was a kid that I'd tell her everything first. I don't want to break my promises. I'll tell you too, as soon as I can."

_God, separating Brittany from Santana is turning out to even be harder than separating copyright protection from Disney disks to pirate her some new DVD's,_ he thought. And he prided himself on that skill, last Halloween he had even dressed up as 'a software pirate,' in a regular pirate's outfit, but also with disks and CD's hanging from his belt, and some others tied to his chair. _Disney truly are an empire of smart bastards with magical Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo powers of write protection, _he grumbled absently to himself getting sidetracked, not knowing who to blame for what he was feeling_._

Maybe he was in over his head. He'd told Mercedes his plan to get Brittany and she'd actually said that she'd pray for him. No, he decided. He needed Brittany too much to give up on her.

'_I practice every day to find some clever lines to say, to make the meaning come true, but then I think I'll wait until the evening, gets late, and I'm alone with you.' _

Changing tactics, and racking his brain for clever lines to say, he went with his one sure fire method of engaging her.

"Come over here," he said. "I liked holding hands with you in Glee Club today," he told her, trying to catch her eye.

Brittany finally stopped what she was doing, laying the book she had been reading down carefully and going over to him.

Seeing he had her attention Artie kept going, taking her hand and rubbing his thumb over her fingers lightly. "And I was super proud to be your chem. lab partner. We showed them all up."

Brittany grinned. "I felt like I finally passed potions class at Hogwarts."

"I just like spending time with you. I wouldn't have cared if we were the last ones finished. But most of all, I liked going on a date with you the other night," he said watching Brittany's face. She gave him that torn, sad look followed by bewilderment and amazement, that turned into a deep sad longing, and almost craving expression of need.

He was used to it now, but it still broke his heart a little. At first he thought that it was compliments that made her feel that way, but through trial and error and some experimentation, he realized compliments weren't it at all. In fact, she seemed a bit immune to even being able to hear some of the nice things he said about her.

What got through to her, was talking about his feelings for her, and acknowledging their relationship, as confusing as it was right now. When they were at the restaurant, all he'd had to do was mention that this was a date or say it out loud to another person, and it had seemed to do something to Brittany, and she'd smiled like she had just won the lottery.

If he was honest, he would have to admit that he played the talking-about-feelings card more than he thought was necessary, but he did it because that was what she really responded to, and he would do anything to keep her with him. Hell, he'd probably even wear a sign that said Brittany owned him if it would keep her around. He'd never had a girl like her before. Well, he'd never had many girls period.

He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, cupping her chin when she didn't move away. Usually she did. This time though, she turned towards him, looking at him almost wistfully as if she too wished that she could just give in and choose him. He kissed her again gently, this time on the mouth, giving her more than enough time to pull away. She didn't.

"The plumbing is different," Brittany murmured to him, thinking about what Santana had said.

Santana had come over the other night and told her to forget about Artie and touch her. _It had been so strange_, Brittany thought. Santana had seemed to lose control of herself, kissing every inch of her possessively, all the while muttering things about Brittany not being a cheating loser like all her mom's boyfriends because girls can't cheat on boys with girls. She repeated it to her over and over, forcing Brittany's hands to touch her, without giving her a chance to make the movements herself. Brittany had listened, trying to understand what she meant.

"_Think about me, now." Santana insisted. "Don't think about him. I'm here now. He's not. You're not doing anything wrong by him anyway. You're not cheating. You're not ruined. You're not a cheater."_

"_I am thinking about you," Brittany told her, confused by her behavior. What else could she possibly be thinking about right now? What else did she ever think about? _

And now, as Artie kissed her, she understood what Santana had been telling her. Santana meant that Brittany wouldn't be cheating on her if she kissed Artie.

_I can kiss you, because the plumbing's different,_ she thought, staring into Artie's eyes. Did that mean that being in love was like pipes and systems, and both Santana and Artie had their own places inside her and Brittany could love them both at the same time, because she could kept those feelings separate and in their own places?

Was that how Santana could be with both Brittany and Puck all at once?

Artie kissed her again. It felt nice. She liked his rough skin and the calluses on his hands from years of pushing the chair, and the way his ears poked out of his hair. She pulled on them, liking that he didn't seem to mind. His arms were strong, and so was his jaw, and he was so sweet. Brittany knew that he would go out of his way to never hurt her. He looked like a little owl, all serious and studious and adorable…

But he wasn't _her_. He didn't have Santana's smooth skin, her tiny little ears… or any of the things that Brittany loved about Santana. And he didn't smile with his whole face.

_If I've got pipe systems, the one that isn't Santana's doesn't work very well,_ Brittany realized. _The plumbing for Artie is blocked. All the feelings I have for her reach me, but his don't get as far._

"Give me a chance," Artie whispered, sensing her sudden distress.

"Okay," Brittany agreed, kissing him back. Maybe it just took time.

* * *

"Puck?" Santana slurred as he carried her over to his couch and laid a blanket over her.

"Yeah? What's up?" He knew he really did care for her. He was a different guy to who he had been a year ago, before Beth.

"Tell… me again?" she burrowed under the blanket, leaving just her eyes showing.

Puck nodded. He knew she just wanted to hear it again, and again. Being stuck here was her worst fear.

"I promise I'll get you out of Lima, Santana. As soon as we graduate, we're getting out of here, no matter what, alright? I'll work for a pool cleaning company or better yet, I'll get a job installing them in people's yards. I'm good with my hands, you know that," he smirked at her.

It took a beat, but she smirked back, her system depressed by all the alcohol.

He looked her over. Tonight, something about her was different.

She beckoned him over. "Kiss me?" she said.

He obliged. It wasn't one of her usual hard and angry kisses. It was softer, gentler. It wasn't any better for him but something in her eyes said it meant something to her.

"Thanks Puck," she smiled and closed her eyes. "Will Brittany be there too?

At the thought of Brittany, Puck imagined both girls on his arm at once. He'd always wanted his own little harem. He pushed the thoughts out of his brain. Santana was barely conscious. She wouldn't remember this in the morning, so he agreed with her.  
"Yes," he told her.

Santana turned to her side.

"She's like… sunshine," she said dreamily, "with her golden hair."

"Sunshine?" Puck asked raising an eyebrow, "drying our shallow pool up and forcing us into the deep end?"

"No… she's far too timid for that. She just keeps me warm, all it takes is her smile."

He knew he had to stop Santana now. She was the weepy emotional kind of drunk and when she got cheesy like that, he knew tears were soon to follow. So he changed the subject.

"So what are you going to do in LA?"

That was the place they talked about. Full of promise. There were proper universities there, like the University of California, and real opportunities. Plus, that was where Puck had already planned to take his pool cleaning business.

She was quiet for a moment and he thought he'd lost her to tears. When he had almost given up and went to bed, she answered softly.

"I thought maybe med school. Like my papi, but fuck him, I'm gonna go my own way and become a lawyer."

* * *

"Artie? What are you doing?"

They were sitting outside the movie theatre. Artie was in his chair and Brittany was leaning forward on a bench in front of him, talking about how good the movie had been. It had been good, even though Artie had mostly spent the whole time trying to explain to Brittany that Na'vi weren't related to The Smurfs, and there was no real threat of Gargamel coming to eat the entire Na'vi population, or try to turn them into gold.

She looked pretty today, in a loose top with stars all over it, and suspenders. Artie had no idea about fashion, but he knew that she wore the suspenders to try and match his look. It was endearing. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek and she blushed, her eyes darting everywhere as if they were doing something wrong. There were people swarming out the theatre since it had been a full house and they were staring at them. He felt like pointing at her and saying 'Yeah! The cripple gets a girlfriend, deal with it!'

"What am I doing? I'm just kissing my girlfriend," he answered her grandly, to her, as much as to all the people listening to them.

She still had that deer in headlights look. "But there are people watching."

"Yeah, so?" he shrugged a bit defensively.

"Aren't you… ashamed to be seen with me?" she asked, looking at her feet and then at Arties. He wore loafers. She looked at her own feet. Ballet shoes. She had never kissed anyone in public before. She had assumed that it wasn't something she'd ever do.

"What? No!" Artie told her.

_How could Brittany even think that. _

She didn't feel at all convinced. She'd never been sure exactly how much of Santana's fear of kissing in public was because they were girls, or because Brittany was Brittany.

He smiled at her and tilted her chin up, "I'm proud of you Brittany. Why wouldn't I want to kiss you in public?"

"Really!?" she squeaked. _Maybe I'm not too weird to do this_. _Maybe I could have…_ her thoughts trailed off.

He chuckled, "Of course. Now come back here, you pretty little thing, you."

He was surprised when Brittany shut her eyes and kissed him on the mouth, kissing him with a sudden confidence he hadn't seen from her much before. He loved that he could bring that out in her.

'_And though it's just a line to you, for me it's true, and never seemed so right before_.'

Honestly, Artie could see them having a future together. He could see himself marrying this girl. Maybe it was premature, but it was how he felt. He looked up into her sweet blue eyes and he knew what he wanted to say.

"I love you Brittany."

'_And then I go and spoil it all, by saying something stupid, like I love you'_

He didn't expect her to say anything. They hadn't been dating long. But he hoped she'd believe him.

Brittany looked at him, stunned, the word 'why' written all over her face. She felt like saying 'I love you' was almost like saying something stupid, it had only led to problems so far between herself and Santana.

She pictured Santana's face and thought about all the times she'd told her she loved her, and all the times she had never received a response.

"I love you, Santana," she heard herself saying in a hushed whisper while Santana held her together after she got yet another F in the janitor's closet.

"I love you, Santana," she heard herself saying after Santana told her she didn't mean anything to her after they had just had sex.

"I love you, Santana," she heard in the back of her mind, representing the thousands of times she hadn't told her, but had felt it anyway.

Seeing she looked dazed and confused, Artie kept trying. He knew she liked logic and reasons and things put clearly so she could understand, so he tried his best. "I love how you put your heart into your dancing and singing in Glee. I like the way you think. I like that you notice me even though I'm way below your line of sight. And I like how you don't judge other people."

_Because you'd have to be an angel to not judge Santana sometimes_, he thought, annoyed at the girl who got in his way so often. It was also nice that Brittany didn't seem to mind his chair.

Brittany didn't know what to say so she flung her arms around him. She felt awful. She didn't know he'd fall in love with her like this. But it felt so good at the same time.

Artie held her trembling body steady. It seemed like she was starved for affection somehow and yet was overwhelmed by it all at once, and Artie felt bad for her.

"I love you," he repeated to her. "I'll take you prom next week?"

"Yes," she whispered softly into his ear, and for a moment she could almost trick herself into thinking that the plumbing was working, but on a second glance inwards, it still wasn't.

Artie was happy. He had date to prom, But best of all, his prom date hadn't said a word about _her_ in almost an hour.

* * *

"TEQUILA SHOTS!"

With that call, Rachel Berry Prom Party Train Wreck Extravaganza (or whatever its latest working title was) had officially begun.

Knowing beforehand that she was certain to rule the prom by singing solos nonstop all night, Rachel had taken it upon herself to stage the after party, going all out to make sure it would be a total train wreck of a success. She could hardly be considered much of a wild thing, but in this case she so badly wanted to be wild. She wanted her party to be a last final bash before exams started where the Glee club (and some randoms) could go crazy, partying like they wouldn't be able to when they were knee deep in assignments. Half the Glee club hadn't received any other invitations to get their freak on anywhere else, so it was all up to her. She also figured that if nobody remembered her for her fabulous prom vocal stylings, they would at least remember her for her after party.

To sum up prom night itself, it had been underwhelming… and now it was over.

Brittany had bought into the hype, convinced that what everyone said was true, and that it was going to be the best night of her life.

But now, she truly didn't think _anyone_ there was actually going to write it down in their life histories as 'the best night of their lives.'

She'd had so many other wonderful nights compared to this one, which hadn't had half the magic that had been promised to her. It was the worst kind of false advertising ever.

A lot of people seemed to have had a really nice night, but nothing really extraordinary happened. No one suddenly developed an idea to cure cancer, no one started throwing up rainbows, and no dinosaur emerged out from behind the curtain. Brittany had been particularly disappointed about the dinosaur, because she had wished on one of Quinn's prom stars for one to show itself, because she thought that actually seeing an extinct beast would really give the seniors a true night to remember.

_Why did all those stupid posters tell me that prom night was about reaching for any dream I wanted, and then really getting it to come true_? she wondered to herself dismally.

Nobody had even seemed to fall in love, and that had literally been written on the posters themselves in big letters. Maybe Brittany might forgive prom for not coming up with a dinosaur, but not this.

"_You'll fall in love"_ the poster had said.

_False advertising,_ Brittany grumbled again in her mind.

She had stuck close to Santana all night though, just in case. Rachel Berry had kept on singing until she was hoarse, but in Brittany's head she had made her own music.

'_There you see her, sitting there across the way.' _

Artie had been a perfect gentleman, showing up in a handsome tuxedo with his hair slicked back, and he had danced with her as best he could to Rachel's strained vocals. In a light green dress, Brittany had sat on his lap while he slowly moved back and forward, spinning them around when the crowd did. He had made her laugh, and called her beautiful, and she had snuggled into him for most of the night, kissing him during all the really romantic songs, like that 'Heya' song by Outkast.

Still, during the big group number while everyone slow danced shoulder-to-shoulder on the floor, she had found herself working her way close enough to Santana and Puck to lean her arm over the back of Artie's chair from where she was sitting on his lap, and hold Santana's hand.

Surprised, when she felt Brittany's fingers close over hers, Santana's hand had dropped from Puck's hip, and she had squeezed Brittany's hand back, keeping their joined hands as concealed as she could, and putting them behind her back so Brittany could reach her better. Brittany had sighed happily then. It sort of felt like she was now dancing with Santana, Artie and Puck, because they were all connected, but when she closed her eyes, she could pretend it was just Santana. She had danced with Artie all night. She just wanted one dance with Santana.

Afterwards, not giving any fucks about what the prom committee thought, Santana had stolen Brittany as many of the helium balloons as she could carry from the decorated main stage. She had presented them to Brittany grandly, as if they were gold, and she had laughed merrily when the blonde had immediately grabbed hold of her tightly to keep herself anchored to the ground, certain that so many balloons would be sure to lift her up off her feet and take her into space.

Indulging her, Santana had held Brittany still while the girl had stood with an odd posture, as if she was certain her feet were already partway off the ground, while she tied them all to Artie's dad's car. She didn't know what Brittany would do with that many balloons, but knowing her, she probably had big plans.

They hadn't seen each other much after that. Artie had come outside looking for Brittany, and Santana had then gone looking for a smoke, which meant she had to find Puck.

Now that they were at the after party, Santana was keeping a watchful, protective eye on how much Brittany was drinking, and as usual, a very blind eye on how much she was drinking herself.

After some confusion, Brittany had finally managed to take her prom dress off, though she had been the last one to change. She was now wearing an interesting collection of mismatched clothing, and Santana was certain that none of it actually belonged to her. Not even the scarf.  
All that currently remained of her prom attire was a large heart shaped bracelet which Brittany had stubbornly insisted on wearing to the main event, even though Santana had said it was tacky.

Santana looked her over. It kind of looked like most of the clothes she had borrowed were from Rachel, but Santana wasn't sure anymore. She certainly didn't recognize her outfit as coming from Brittany's closet, or even as Brittany's style, but she knew Brittany was capable of shopping without her. Maybe she was even shopping with Artie. The very idea of that, and of Brittany changing without her knowledge upset her more than she cared to admit.

She lunged forward to catch one of Brittany's shoes that was somehow flying through the air. Santana sighed. She knew she would never be able to convince her to put it back on again. She also knew that Brittany never had to drink a lot to become the falling-over-and-staggering around version of herself, and by the looks of things, she was already at least half way gone.

Brittany also insisted on keeping Santana in her view. She already couldn't remember anything important, like she had officially forgotten why not wearing clothes was a bad idea. Clothes were the enemy. Why did they always make them out of such scratchy material? While drunk, Brittany was always only about one step away from joining a nudist colony.

"Making it rain! That's my girl. Yeah!" Artie called, throwing money at her when she shed another layer, tossing her socks upwards in the air like they might disappear like magic.

Brittany tried to smile at him. She might as well smile. If she really did join a nudist colony, then that smile would totally be the only thing she'd be wearing.

She didn't understand the money part though, or why it would be raining. She wasn't rain dancing at the moment to make it rain.

Escaping the crowd, she went to sit on the washing machine in the corner of the room, then nervously switched to the dryer. Within minutes she was immediately chased off by Rachel, who had perhaps noticed her guilty expression. There was nowhere else to sit, or she never would have gone near those things. Santana had warned her that sitting on them could make you feel all tingly, but luckily nothing had happened just now. _Maybe you're supposed to have them turned on then, before they work_, Brittany thought relieved. She hadn't wanted to feel molested by Rachel's dad's appliances.

Wandering back over to the crowd, she began to feel the beat. The music was up loud and it was making her body move. She'd already had enough to drink that see couldn't see her feet. Everything was blurry. And for some reason, all the people in the room kind of looked like rain sticks… or maybe even poles, which made her think of some great pole related dance moves to try out. She looked around for Santana and found her just behind her.

Santana continued following Brittany around, obsessively trying to attach her clothes back to her. Keeping Rachel's rainbow colored scarf around Brittany's neck was well and truly a lost cause. Keeping her socks on was actually so far working out well, but Rachel's top had about a survival rate of about ten minutes before it came back off again. She was sure now that all these things belonged to Rachel. Everything was made in that scratchy fabric that Rachel loved, and Brittany hated, and Santana wondered if she could maybe find her at least another shirt instead. Then, she might have more success.

* * *

Some time later, Rachel had convinced them to start playing Spin the bottle, and Brittany was excelling at the game, spinning the bottle round and round and round and round until she was even more dizzy than she had been before. _What is the point of this game other that to keep spinning the bottle? Where are the instructions… are they on the label? Okay, what does Bacardi mean, and is it a verb?_ Brittany wondered.

"Kiss, Kiss!" everyone chanted when Brittany gave up and the bottle finally stopped moving. The bottle was pointed at the new guy, Sam, who kind of looked like that goldfish she'd had once that she'd flushed down the toilet, as if it had come back to haunt her. _Huh? Why should she kiss him? Wasn't she dating Artie? Was she now expected to grow a third set of plumbing pipes? What a confusing night this was turning out to be. _

Brittany took a breath as she listened to all the instructions being hollered at her. _Right, okay_, she thought. _Kissing is probably the point of this game_. Brittany hated the person who named it, because they should have been more specific and called it 'Spin the bottle, and then kiss," because then Brittany would have been properly warned and she so wouldn't have joined in.

Sam kind of looked like a girl. A blonde girl. Or maybe it was just the alcohol. Kissing another blonde girl, that at least in this light looked a lot like herself, was almost sure to feel more like some kind of masturbation, and Brittany was so not into masturbating in public. This was so embarrassing.

Sam pressed his lips against hers and was immediately stopped by Santana who got in his face shouting things at him over the music.  
"_Hey honeys_, it's not a Big Red commercial. _No me gusta_!" she yelled in his face.

Brittany looked up and smiled at her adoringly. She didn't know what that meant, but if Santana would only sit down and play, she would make sure the bottle landed on her every time. Then, this would be a game worth playing. Quinn spun the bottle then, but when it landed on Brittany, she gave her the strangest expression, pausing for a long time, before getting up and walking away.

Santana chased after Quinn shouting something in Spanish with a few broken English words thrown in, that sounded like Santana was telling her that she had her eye on Quinn and that she better 'fucking watch out.'

Hearing another loud call for action, everyone began doing body shots, and because she wanted to drink responsibly, and because she figured she'd probably had enough alcohol for now, Brittany volunteered to be the body.

Santana immediately hovered over her, claiming she should get all the turns, batting everyone else away.

_That was a pretty dumb idea of mine_, Brittany thought. _Santana's gonna get so drunk. She's already so drunk. _

Brittany looked up at her, her stomach shaking every time Santana's tongue came near her in anticipation. She wanted to tell her that it was okay if the boys had a go too. The boys were being nice. They kept saying nice things to her and calling her pretty. Her head was a little fuzzy, but she was pretty sure that meant they were trying to be polite, like saying please before you asked to borrow someone's pen.

When one of the boys tried to physically restrain Santana and hold her back so they could have a turn, Santana snapped, lashing out at them and telling them to fuck off.  
"You like the way she dances, huh? You're just little pricks. You're not good enough for her," Santana fumed.

_Santana's starting to lose it_, Brittany worried. _When she gets drunk, she gets all emotional, and so jealous of anything that moves._

_Maybe it would help if she got lots of attention from everyone like I'm getting?_ Brittany wondered. _Santana can have all the attention that I'm getting from the boys, it's too confusing for me._

She walked up to Sam and bent down to whisper in his ear.

"Santana's really hot," she informed him. "Go tell her that."

The blonde boy looked at her bewildered.

"Brittany," Artie said, rolling up to her. "What are you doing? You're not… you're not hitting on Sam are you?" he asked, his forehead creasing.  
He was an insecure kind of guy, and he'd already had a hard enough time keeping Brittany to himself as it was. Maybe it was the chair? _Maybe it's not just a handicap, maybe it's a barrier between me and people, _he thought sadly.

Brittany exhaled. Artie had the worst timing. She wasn't sure if she could explain what she had just done, as innocent as it was, while she was drunk like this. Drinking completely took away the words she wanted to use to explain. She shook her head from side to side as hard as she could, then had to steady herself on a nearby table.

"Brittany," he said, almost on the verge of tears.

"Brittany!" Santana said coming up to her, her eyes blazing as she saw several guys surrounding her.

"Santana! Sam wants to talk to you!" Brittany said, pushing Sam towards her.

"Well I don't want to talk to him," she glared, making a fist at her side.

"Um…," Sam said, looking back at Brittany. _She's cute, but is she sane?_ he wondered.

Brittany elbowed him in the ribs, and Sam decided to go with it. He couldn't afford to make people angry with him. He was only the new guy.

"You look nice tonight, um…-"

"Santana," Brittany supplied happily. Maybe it was drunken logic, but she was sure all Santana needed was some attention and compliments. She always felt better when people paid her attention; in fact she thrived on it.

Santana didn't smile. "Oh, so you think you can be her little buddy do you?" she said glaring dangerously. "Getting in good with me to get to her? Fuck you! You're all the same. I bet you're already planning your little evening with your hand tonight. Well that's all you're ever going to have, _buddy!_"

"Well, I know I'm planning mine," Puck said from behind them both, flexing his fingers out and in, his face giving the impression that he was watching some kind of train wreck drama on TV.  
"This is so hot," he said, winking at Brittany suggestively.

Santana exploded, having well and truly reached her limit. She turned to Puck, throwing her hands out emotionally, tears running down her face. "You like her more than me. She's blonde and awesome and so smart! Admit it! Just admit it! No, kiss me," Santana kissed Puck hard.

Brittany felt something catch in her throat, and then expand as if to choke her. It always hurt watching Santana kiss Puck. She was glad Santana seemed okay now, not that she could actually see her anymore. Nobody could see her now that her face was kind of buried in Puck's face.

She turned away and went to go sit with the others. She found Kurt first. He was dancing like one of 'The Inbetweeners,' but she wasn't sure which one.

_Where's Mercedes? _she thought. After a quick search, she found her laughing with Tina on the couch. Brittany smiled. They looked so happy. She tried to join in, doing her best to think of things to laugh at with them, but everything she thought of fell flat. They seemed to be laughing at their own jokes in their heads, so Brittany tried to follow… but not even her ingenious self created knock-knock jokes were working, and she usually always found them funny no matter what. Her eyes kept darting to Puck and Santana in the corner.

Artie wheeled himself up to her. "There you are, Britt. It's crazy in here, isn't it?" he asked, hoping for some confirmation that she hadn't been hitting on Sam, or that he hadn't been hitting on her.

"Yes!" Brittany agreed, her head starting to spin.

Sam chose that moment to come up to them. "Look, um… is it Brittany?" he asked, gesturing to her.

Brittany nodded.

"That Santana girl is crazy. I don't know what you were trying to do, but it's not happening between me and her."

Brittany tried to glare at him, but she couldn't figure out which ways to get her face to pinch up.

"Yeah, she's something isn't she," Artie agreed, immediately warming to Sam, hoping he would have someone to complain to about Santana, at least for the rest of the night.

"Do you have a boyfriend, Brittany?" Sam asked, flipping his hair. Brittany, with her lack of clothes, looked kind of easy, and he was a social kind of guy who liked getting to know a lot of girls. He could maybe start with her?

Artie's warm feelings vanished. "Yes," he said, puffing his chest out and getting closer, wondering if he could run over Sam's foot. "She has me."

"Oh, sorry bro," Sam apologized to him. "It didn't look like you guys were…-"

"We are," Artie said shortly.

Brittany stiffened, feeling arms come around from behind her, constricting all her movements. She was about to struggle and fight to break free, when she realized how familiar those arms were, so she relaxed. Brittany let Santana squeeze her in a bear hug for a while, until her fingers started going to sleep and she wanted to move them.

"Santana. Let me go, my fingers need to wake up," Brittany told her. "They're dreaming."

"No, I'm jus' protecting you," Santana told her emotionally, holding her tight, her voice muffled from pressing her face into Brittany's back.

Artie came forward and tried to pry open Santana's hands. Being physically stronger than her, he soon had them undone and had forcibly unwound her arms from around Brittany.

The minute she knew she was beaten, Santana exploded, causing a chain reaction in the room. She started hollering abuse at Artie, which got him yelling back at her, with Sam joining in occasionally to make his comments, and Puck coming over and egging them on whenever he could. Brittany hoped it would quickly die down, but it didn't, it only became more heated and began escalating rapidly.

"You're just a stupid boy!" Santana yelled. "What would you know about anything? You're nothing! I don't know why she even likes you!"

"Santana," Brittany warned her, trying to get in between them. "Stop."

Santana ignored her, advancing on Artie as if she might hit him. She let loose a string of cusses and insults in Spanish.

"She's miserable whenever you're around," Artie yelled back, ignoring the fact she was still speaking. "You're such a total bitch! I'm sick of you walking around like you're Queen Bee, like you know everything and own everyone."

"At least I can walk!" Santana hollered. It was a low blow. Brittany grabbed her, trying to pull her away, but it was like Santana's feet were planted in the floor.

"Maybe I can't walk, but at least I won't be using my legs to swing around a pole for the rest of my life!" Artie countered. "People like you just fade away after highschool, because there isn't this stupid social hierarchy out in the real world, and you'll have no one to bully, because that's all you are, you're just a bully!"

Brittany gasped at his words, trying to find her voice and force words out. Santana was going to hit him if she didn't do something soon, and at the moment she wouldn't put a punch up past Artie either.

"Eres un cochino, el unico razon que estoy contigo es porque tu estas tan bueno en la cama," she shouted as loud as she could, managing to equal the volume of both Artie and Santana together.  
She stopped then added something else she'd heard for good measure. "Vete a la chingada!"

Everyone in the room turned to look at her, and Brittany held her head straight up defiantly, refusing to back down. She pulled on Santana's arm again, and finally finding no resistance, she led her away from everyone, out of the room and into Rachel's hallway.

Santana's mouth was open. "Do you know what you actually said?" she whispered, taking a few deep breaths as if she were coming down from something.

"No," Brittany told her. "But it worked didn't it?"

Santana continued to look at her incredulously, until slowly she smiled.

Brittany smiled back relieved. There was her Santana back.

Santana's smile grew. "I'm not sure who you directed that to, but you called someone a real pig, and indicated that you wouldn't be with that person if he wasn't so good in bed. And then you basically told us all to go fuck ourselves."

"I didn't!" Brittany said, horrified.

"Oh, yes you did," Santana giggled. Brittany swearing in Spanish was absolutely hilarious. "I sincerely hope I didn't teach you that, because coming from you that's just… wow."

Brittany said nothing.

"Oh, it was me, was it?" Santana said smirking more. _Who else would it be?_

"You've said it to Puck before," Brittany admitted. "And I've now used up all my swear words and my rage, so don't worry," she said, nodding.

"Pity," Santana said. "Wait… what… you were really angry? With me?" Her face fell.

"Kind of," Brittany admitted. "You guys were fighting over me, right? I didn't like that. There was all this yelling and I just want you all to be friends."

Santana's eyes started watering. "You hate me," she said tearfully, the alcohol talking for her. "Everyone hates me."

"Santana," Brittany tried, then put her arms around her instead. There was no reasoning with her when she was like this.

Santana fell into Brittany's arms, and Brittany held her while the party went on without them. Brittany put a hand to the back of Santana's head, feeling her burrow into her, pressing her body into hers for a full bodied hug.

Santana wondered how she had ever survived without contact from her for this long.

When Santana had finally calmed down, Brittany had steered her into Rachel's kitchen and patted the counter for her to sit up on, while she made her drink a glass of water. She'd read somewhere that doing that was a good idea, so it might help sober her up.

Brittany wanted to follow her own advice and drink a glass of water too, but it was like all the alcohol and the stress of the night was catching up with her now and she was worried she'd get sick if she tried to drink anything else, and she didn't want to do that all over Rachel's dad's nice kitchen.

She wasn't used to getting drunk. Her body was starting to reject all that she'd drank, like it had finally received the memo that she'd been putting things in her body that it didn't like.

"Hey, B… are you okay, baby?" Santana asked her seeing her expression, letting her rare and affectionate side find its way out to her at the sight.

Hearing Santana call her that never failed to make Brittany's heart pound and that was usually awesome, except in this case her body couldn't take the extra stress. She moaned.

Santana motioned her over from where she was still sitting on the counter and parted her legs so Brittany could lean against her. She refilled the glass of water she'd been drinking, and gave it to Brittany.

"Your turn," she insisted, brushing a stray lock of hair out of Brittany's face, keeping the motion going, and then rubbing her back while Brittany struggled to get down the entire glass of water.

"I'm guessing your mom wouldn't want to see you like this, so we'll go hide out at mine?" she asked.

"You don't want to party any more?" Brittany asked with her face all scrunched up, as Santana ran her hands up and down her arms comfortingly. Santana was always the last one to leave parties and even then it wasn't voluntary, she was usually kicked out in the early hours of the morning.

Santana chuckled, her stomach shaking Brittany slightly where she was leaning on her.

"I think we've both partied enough tonight."

Brittany just nodded, trying to keep her face impassive.

"Besides," Santana continued, "I want to look after you. You're more important."

Brittany wasn't sure that Santana really meant that, but she nodded again.

Santana's worried eyes were trained on hers. Brittany really did look pale and ill, and she had bags under her eyes. Santana felt wracked with guilt. Brittany hadn't been herself for a while now, and had only been vaguely improving since Artie had come into the picture. A night of heavy drinking (heavy by Brittany's standards, anyway) just made the physical side of it look more obvious.

Santana had noticed. Of course she had. She had just avoided ever thinking about it, preferring to deny it completely rather than deal with it. She wanted to make it up to her.

Santana felt nearly all traces of her drunken stupor leaving her. She had to snap out of it and look after Brittany.

Unfortunately for her, Artie had exactly the same idea. "Poor Britt Britt," he cooed. "I'll call my dad to take you home."

Santana looked ready to kill him again. Britt Britt was her nickname for Brittany, not his. She tried to swallow down her rage, taking the empty glass back from Brittany, filling it again and drinking it down slowly.

Brittany shook her head. She didn't want Stephen Hawking to see her like this. She also knew that she definitely didn't want to go home, because then she'd probably have to walk past her mom. Besides, Santana still had tears in her eyes. She might need her.

"Santana needs me," she told Artie. "I'm sorry. Thank you for the great time, though."

Santana chose that moment to ham it up, clutching Brittany's arm, even though she had no intention of letting Brittany do anything for her tonight, she only planned to look after her instead.

Artie looked like he might argue with her, then he slumped his shoulders, accepting it. He had known all along that she probably wouldn't be leaving with him, but he had decided to take what he could get. He still had all of Brittany's balloons on his dad's car. They would have to be his reminder of her tonight.

'_And if we go someplace to dance, I know that there's a chance, you won't be leaving with me.'_

* * *

They took a taxi and Brittany lay down in Santana's lap, listening to her direct the driver back to her house from the back seat. When she wasn't talking to the driver, Santana would lean down and whisper into her ear, telling her how important she was to her, and how sorry she was that she had been acting like she wasn't. Brittany could hear the far off rumble of thunder, and it made her shiver. Maybe they should turn the car around and go somewhere else if they were heading into a storm?

* * *

"You gonna be sick Britts?" Santana asked her concerned as she half dragged her up to her room. She paused at the door, taking in Brittany's sickly grey coloring and her breathing, quick and shallow, and instead led her to the bathroom. "Come on, sweetie, kneel down here" she said, pausing by the toilet to line the water with toilet paper so when Brittany got sick, it wouldn't splash up and hit her. Santana got drunk so much that she knew all the tricks by now. _Stupid Berry and her after party,_ Santana thought.

"I'm not sick," Brittany said shakily, backing up against the sink and holding onto it to keep herself steady. A clap of thunder sounded overhead. "There's water here, we can't be near water," Brittany told her, pacing back and forward, then suddenly dashing from the room.

_But you love water_, Santana thought confused, chasing after her. It didn't take long for her to find Brittany hiding under her bed. "Brittany, come out from under there, okay. Sit up here with me?" she said arranging herself on her bed and crossing her legs.

"No," Brittany whined, her voice sounding muffled and coming from somewhere beneath her. "I'll turn into a shadow."

"A what?" Santana asked.  
A bright light flashed into the room. _Lightning_, Santana thought. _It's close._ The smell of rain flooded her senses.

Brittany screamed.

"Brittany! What happened?" Santana went face-first over the side of the bed, eventually supporting her weight on her hands and looking under the bed from upside down. She half expected to see a hurt finger caught on the bed frame, or a giant spider or something. She wasn't prepared to see Brittany curled up in the fetal position on her side, her hands clamped over her head, her face frozen mid scream.

Santana tried to make her voice gentle. "Come on out now babe, or I honestly will come under there and drag you out."

Brittany obeyed her, slowly shuffling out and tunneling her way under the blankets until she reached Santana on the other side of the mattress. She buried her face in her chest, feeling Santana's arms come around her and hold her tight.

"Britt, come on put this on, it's cold," Santana said, reaching for an oversized shirt for Brittany's inspection.

Brittany didn't move.

Santana sighed. "You really are kind of drunk, B. I'll get you a piece of bread to eat or something. It might soak up the alcohol in your system." She rose to get up.

"Santana… please stay. I'm just tired, I'll be fine," Brittany said to her, alarmed at the fact that Santana might really leave her alone.

"Okay, Britt, but then you leave me no choice but to stay up and watch over you, and make sure you don't end up like the people in all those horror story videos we see in those alcohol education classes," Santana joked.

Brittany pouted, "That's not fair. If you're awake and I'm not, then I'll miss all the exciting stuff you see."

Santana laughed. "Exactly what are you going to miss?" she asked gesturing around the silent room, "the epic saga that you always spin talking in your sleep? The boogeyman coming out of the closet?"

"San," Brittany said seriously, "don't even joke about things in closets. Not after we just watched 'Saw' together the other day."  
_That clown thing_, she thought shuddering.

Santana laughed and arranged Brittany so that she was lying on the crook of her arm.  
She paused. "It doesn't look like you've been sleeping much at all lately."

The look on Brittany's face admitted that she hadn't. Santana wished she could blame it on the Jigsaw killer haunting her, but she knew better. When she was bad, she couldn't help but know that there was no more powerful villain in Brittany's life than herself.

"I'm more scared of the tooth fairy than that evil clown," Brittany told her.

Caught off guard, Santana tried not to smirk.

"I mean it! You weren't there when I watched 'Darkness Falls' with Kurt. Every time I screamed, he screamed because he was more scared of me than the movie. But I swear, that evil lady who comes out of the darkness looking for your last baby tooth, and kills you if you see her, was the scariest thing I have ever seen."

Santana's mouth finally gave in and twisted up in amusement. Trust Brittany to have fallen asleep on her while both 'The Ring' and the entire 'Scream' trilogy played on the screen, but to have acted like she was being murdered during a much tamer horror flick about the tooth fairy.

"I think it was because you weren't there San," Brittany told her. "That made it so much scarier!"

They fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the sound of Brittany yawning.

"Close your eyes," Santana told her gently, exhaling and softly blowing air on her face. "I'll watch over you now, and you've long since lost all your baby teeth. Just sleep this off, okay?"

They lay in silence together in the stillness, until another round of thunder boomed and Brittany clutched at her, and spoke up again.

"It hurts San," She muttered, unable to be clearer than that.

"What does?" Santana asked anxiously.

Brittany's eyes snapped open. _The thunder hurts. The lightning hurts more. It feels like it's already got me. And being close to you, that hurts too. So does being apart from you and trying to be with someone else, _she said in her head.

"Everything…everywhere," Brittany told her, the best she could manage out loud.

Santana knew at least part of what she couldn't say, but she kind of wished she didn't.

"Brittany I…" she said, about to make an excuse and then change the subject, but the sad, defeated look in Brittany's eyes stopped her.

"Does it hurt here?" she kissed her neck playfully. "And here?" she got her nose. "And here?" she pressed her lips to her collar bone.

Brittany sighed in contentment, so Santana kept going. She got her shoulder, each of her eyelids, her bellybutton and her temples and she kept going kissing every inch of her until she felt that she had at least dulled the hurt a bit.

Then, the thunder clashed again, and more lightning appeared against the window, which rattled from the crash. Brittany shrieked again, pulling a blanket over both their heads.

"Is this about the storm, Britt? But don't you love storms?" Santana asked, confused.

"_Come on Santana! Come outside with me! I'm going to make it rain," fourteen year old Brittany said. "If we're lucky we might get a storm too!" _

"_Oh, Britts, you and your rain dancing." Santana had to admit that the blonde looked kind of insane spinning around constantly in a clockwise direction, reciting her rain making chants. Her hair, complete with a Native American style feather, spun out in all different directions as it blew around in the breeze. Yes, it was silly, but nonetheless, she went outside to watch her anyway. _

_After Brittany had fallen to the ground, exhausted and dizzy, her voice almost worn out, she rolled to over to lay beside Santana and look at the sky. _

"_Nope, no rain, Britt. Just clouds," Santana told her. _

"_They're good clouds," Brittany told her. "That one looks like a vagina."_

_Santana giggled. "I think it looks more like a peace sign, Britt." _

"_Yes! That means the rain is coming. I'd rather see God's peace than her vagina!" _

"_Oh, yes, wouldn't we all," Santana said, her tone affectionate yet sarcastic. "I can also imagine a hit Christian song with that exact title for the more offbeat, yet still equally faithful of our churchgoers."_

_Ten minutes later, Brittany felt the first few drops on her nose, which quickly turned into a torrential downpour. _

"_It worked!" Brittany yelled, dragging Santana to her feet and throwing her arms out to catch the rain. _

"_Call it off," Santana whined to her, hearing the start of thunder. Some sophomores were throwing an outdoor party tonight and she'd worked so hard to get an invitation, and the last thing she wanted was for it to be cancelled. _

_Brittany didn't. Her hair plastered to her face, and her feather no longer standing straight, she continued to dance until Santana joined her. At the first flash of lightning, Santana pulled her inside. It rained for three days straight until Brittany finally did the anti-rain dance required to call it off, spinning anti-clockwise and chanting backwards._

_She loved storms, and that storm had been the most beautiful one she had yet seen. _

"I hate storms," Brittany muttered, opening and shutting her mouth. She raised her shoulders as if to shrug, then lowered them down slowly, keeping them suspended for only a moment before dropping them completely.

"Britts, why?" Santana asked, touching her cheek.

Brittany shuffled around for a moment, before she finally grabbed onto her bracelet and pulled a letter out of a heart shaped secret compartment. She handed it to Santana. Santana had wondered why she had insisted on wearing that rather tacky piece of jewelry with her prom dress, but she could see now that it had clearly been to keep this letter with her. The letter itself had been folded over so many times that it took Santana a long time to finally straighten it out. She smoothed it out on her knee, pinching it with her fingers, and she began to read.

The many terms of endearments immediately told her before even looking at the bottom of the sheet that it was from Brittany's late Granny.

Some words on the middle of the page immediately caught her eye.

"_Your dad is living here at Carter's right now. He's doing okay, he just still needs assisted living." _

_Brittany's dad?_ she thought. _Hold up._ Her eyes trailed up the page. She had been half convinced that Brittany's mom had somehow managed to conceive her by herself, just like one of those freaking Whiptail lizards that Brittany kept raving about. Her eyes scanned the page.

"_You might remember that he used to live with you when you were small. It was just after he'd had the accident so he might have scared you a little bit. I remember you having nightmares at night when you lived with me, about a shadow of a man who wouldn't leave you alone. That was your father, darling. I used to think it wasn't my place to tell you, but I realize now that it has to be." _

_Accident? _Santana read on and things began to make sense. Apparently Brittany had inherited her disorder genetically from her dad. In his thirties by the time he met Susan, he had studied the art of dating long enough to reel her in and temporarily defrost her heart. He had got her pregnant within a week of knowing her, their relationship intense, fueled by what Granny described as 'magical moments.'

Susan hadn't been prepared for the comedown, and she also hadn't been aware of his disorder. In the short time that they had been together before the pregnancy, he had so far managed to hide all traces of it, appearing only vaguely eccentric. Then, as time went on, his pretense of being normal began to wear down, and his habits, rituals and social failings began to come out, clashing with Susan's no-nonsense, and intolerant personality. As Susan began to resent him, he had become more reclusive towards her, and the world. Susan began to hide him away, feeling that it was impossible to bring him anywhere without him speaking his mind and offending her friends. When Brittany was born, he had vowed to stay and help, even though by that point, his relationship was Susan was strained at best.

_Very interesting_, Santana thought, putting her free arm back around Brittany who was leaning on her shoulder. _What does Brittany make of all this_? she wondered_. Because consider my mind blown, even just by the fact that Susan isn't a completely dead fish when it comes to people, and had managed to dust all those cobwebs off and actually like someone, even for a short time. _She kept reading, and then let out a tiny gasp. Brittany, who had been watching her face intently, nuzzled into her neck unsure of what part she was reading.

Santana pinched the paper hard in between her fingers. Apparently when Brittany was still a baby, all good plans laid had gone to waste, when her dad was struck by lightning. He had survived, but from what Santana could tell as she tried to read around the tear stains on the letter, the experience had earned him a metal plate in his head, and had turned him from a functional man, into one that could hardly walk or speak. The damage from the accident plus his preexisting disorder, had been temporarily debilitating. He had lived with Brittany and her mom for a time, staring into space, sitting on a chair in one room, unable or unwilling to acknowledge his lover or daughter, and in turn not being acknowledged himself by Susan Pierce.

_It's no wonder Brittany thought she had made him up as her imaginary friend,_ Santana realized. It must have seemed like Brittany was the only one who could see him, and she was so little then. She hadn't known who he was or why he was around.

She stroked Brittany's hair absently as she finished the letter. Her dad had made so much progress from that point onward, and he was now living a happy and fulfilling life within the bounds of his care home. Even so, Susan still hadn't wanted Brittany to know him. There was still some conflict between the two ex lovers, that perhaps Brittany paid for sometimes, by being Susan's _only_ ever present reminder of him, as Katie had a different father. She skimmed the rest quickly wanting to get back to Brittany who was eyeing the window in the room nervously, and trembling at her side.

Though she was hastily trying to finish reading, she couldn't help but pause on the section that said Brittany had also been a twin, the other lost relatively early in the pregnancy. Granny had been very thorough, writing down everything she knew about Brittany, that might not have been openly discussed at home.

_There could have been two Brittany's?_ Santana thought, her mind racing with a rush of excitement at the thought before she could stop herself. _Two of her?!_

Then, the thunder boomed, startling them both and cracking the sky in two. _Okay, I think I'll focus on the one I have_, Santana thought as Brittany whimpered, cracking into pieces herself.

She shifted her so she could see her face. "What happened to your dad isn't going to happen to you," Santana promised her tenderly. "Never will it ever happen to you."

"How do you know," Brittany asked, her voice hoarse.

"Because no lightning could ever be dumb enough to cross me," Santana told her. "It's all just flashes and loud noises, nothing can hurt you here."

"I don't want to end up like him," Brittany told her, running her tongue over her lip. She could taste blood where she'd bitten it moments before. "I don't want to lose myself. I don't want…-" she trailed off, then tried to begin again.  
"I don't want to turn into a shadow. I don't want your time to have been wasted."

Santana knew what Brittany meant. She was trying to tell her that she was afraid of regressing, and of things dragging her down and erasing all the hard work they'd both put in to help her beat many of the limitations of her disorder. Santana knew that Brittany had an irrational fear of taking any kind of drugs or medication because most of them made her feel disconnected, with a heavy sense of confusion, and it reminded her of how she used to be when she was little. Afraid that the effects would last forever and she'd lose herself again, she would panic.  
Now, 'being struck by lightning' had officially replaced her fear of meds, and had moved to the top of list of things that Brittany feared would take her grip on the world away.

"Never have I ever once thought, that I'd ever call this time wasted," Santana said kissing her temple. "And never will I ever let any lightning storm hurt you."

"Never have I ever had a ride on a zebra's back. And never will I ever eat green eggs and ham."

Santana's lips paused against Brittany's head. "Wait what?"

"I thought we were playing 'never have I ever, and never will I ever,'" Brittany said, giving Santana a watery grin.

"Oh, okay. Never have I ever played strip…-" Santana ran through every game she could think of in her mind until she found one left sacred, "-Monopoly. And never will I ever have sex on a ferris wheel. I mean wanky, but those things are legit high up, and scary."

As Santana said 'scary' more thunder boomed and Brittany tried to put on a brave face, although she could see that her knuckles on the hand she had interlaced with Santana's, were turning white. "Never have I ever eaten Cheerio's off the floor, and never will I ever do that cause it's totally gross."

"Oh it's my turn. Um… never have I ever carried out my plans to roast Finn over a spit, turning him ever so slowly so his immense beef actually cooks… yet, and never will I ever go to an Indigo Girl's concert," Santana said.

Brittany thought for a moment. "Never have I ever thought much about who my dad was before this letter, and never will I ever go looking for him."

"Are you sure, Britt? You don't have to decide right away, and you don't have to be okay with it, that was a lot of information to take in, I mean, even I feel a bit like I do after one of one of Miss Opperly's history classes right now."

"Ugh, yeah. Why does she always try to pack a hundred years worth of events in one lesson. I was already behind by centuries. And she's missing all the good stuff anyway. Nobody ever knows the good stuff," Brittany pouted.

"I like that you've been studying lately Britt, but what do you mean by that?" Santana said, nudging her.

"Well, I've decided that history is funny. First there has to be a person there to see it, and then that person has to actually find a way writing it down for people to see. Can you imagine just how many important things the world doesn't know about?" Brittany paused. "I mean, nobody will ever know about us, right?" Brittany asked, her voice low.

Santana tensed.

Brittany gave it up. "About my dad, I wouldn't want to confuse him. I mean, imagine me just showing up and making him try to be a dad. I'm not three anymore, and he probably remembers me that way anyway, sitting under his chair and making 'whoooo' noises as if we were both ghosts."

Santana laced her free fingers through Brittany's other hand and joined them in a complicated handhold. "Never have I ever gone a day without hating Papi even just a little bit since he left, and never will I ever be able to stop hating him for leaving," she admitted.

Brittany leaned back and gave her a sympathetic kiss to her earlobe. "Never have I ever had sex with Artie," she told her.

Santana's heart skipped a beat and she froze, not daring to believe it. The way those two had been all over each other in Glee club, she had suspected that they had gone all the way. She could see how much Artie wanted that from Brittany, just by the look on his face.

"And never will I ever have sex with Artie," Brittany concluded, a trace of sadness coming in to her voice.

"You can't say that for sure," Santana said, a small flicker of hope coming into her voice in spite of herself.

"Yes, I can," Brittany sighed. "We have to break up."

"Why? You both seem so happy together." Santana said conversationally, steeling herself for the catch, not quite daring to believe it.

"We are happy. And usually I have this rule, that I've got to keep my promises to people no matter what. So for any other reason I would have stayed with him you know, even if you …-" Brittany trailed off.

_Even if Santana asked me right now to be with her, I'd still have to be true to Artie, because I'm his girlfriend. Except this is all wrong because I still want her to ask me, even though I'm with him. I was thinking of her tonight at prom, and at the party, and I should have been thinking of him. The plumbing isn't going to start working. I guess I only have one set of pipes, and they're hers_. _I was trying to make him fit in her place._ _I like him a lot, but I'm doing the wrong thing, by him, by her, and by myself, _Brittany thought.

"It's just wrong San. I have to break up with him. It's the right thing."

Santana gave her a rare open smile with all her teeth showing.

Brittany smiled back, immediately forgetting her troubles. _Santana is so beautiful_, she thought. _Especially from this angle. I haven't been close enough to look directly up at her for ages_.

Santana's heart thumped against her chest, louder than the now far off thunder.

"Get some rest now Britt," she said, settling down to watch over her for a couple of hours.

* * *

When Brittany lifted her head from Santana's chest hours later, her mind was groggy and unfocused. Her thoughts were still on their game from before, as it had continued on in her dreams. She had shared something in her dream that she wanted to share now in her reality. In her dream, she had made their night together count. She had found a way to make something of her prom night, and truly make it a night that could be always remembered like those posters said, even if what she was reaching for wasn't a star, and it was perhaps only meaningful to her.

Santana smiled tiredly at her, still leaning against the headboard. She had just been watching Brittany sleep, finding a sense of peace from it, and using the calm to sort out some of her thoughts.

Brittany raised her head a little and pressed her forehead to Santana's chin, nuzzling into her. For a moment she stayed quiet, sensing something about Santana was different. Her face was softer somehow, and the pain that had always surrounded her had seemed to lift in place of something that existed only here.

"Santana," she murmured, "never have I ever been normal, and never will I ever be normal. I have Asperger's Syndrome." Admitting it for the first time out loud, she felt as if a weight had been lifted, as it had been a heavy secret to carry, even if the main person she had been keeping it from was herself.

Santana's eyes became misty with emotion, and she traced a finger up and down Brittany's cheek, "I know sweetie, and it's okay," she whispered to her, her voice cracking from disuse, pride shining from her eyes. "Normal is so fucking boring anyway."

Even in a half coherent state, Brittany still didn't look convinced of that, but she leaned into Santana's touch anyway, telling her with heavy lidded eyes, "I might not be able to admit to that in my right mind tomorrow."

"I know," Santana smiled a sad smile at her, resting her palm against her forehead, and lowering Brittany back down to her pillow. "I won't be able to admit this in my right mind tomorrow either-" She took a breath. "But, never have I ever not loved you, Brittany, and never will I ever stop."

Brittany's eyes opened all the way, as if she wasn't quite sure if she had heard right, or if this was a dream. For a couple of seconds the sheer need in Brittany's eyes overpowered Santana, the situation and the entire room before it shut itself out and the calm returned. Finally, Brittany mumbled back, "I love you too Santana." She could have said thousands of words more to confess her feelings, but she didn't, preferring to keep things simple so the spell couldn't be broken.

Santana got the silent message which was stark and plain in Brittany's eyes. _I could still tell you that tomorrow, if only you'd let me. _

Brittany knew that Santana saw right into her soul, so she didn't want to see her reaction, she just wanted this to be the night that Santana said she loved her, and the night where she didn't say no. She would never forget tonight, the prom posters had been right all along. Dreams do come true, and everyone falls in love on prom night.

"Sing to me?" she asked her raising a lazy hand up and cupping the side of Santana's face, before lifting her own face up just far enough to kiss her goodnight.

Santana did sing to her, but she waited until Brittany had fallen asleep, or at least until she thought she had. More affected than she realized by Brittany's openness tonight, and not yet sure what to make of her own, she brushed aside Brittany's hair from her face and clung to her tightly, singing to her about her biggest fears and the feelings she hid away inside. _One day, she would tell her everything._

"_So this is how the story went  
I met someone by accident  
who blew me away  
who blew me away_

_It was in the darkest of my days_  
_When you took my sorrow and you took my pain_  
_And buried them away, you buried them away_

_And I wish I could lay down beside you_  
_When the day is done_  
_And wake up to your face against the morning sun_  
_But like everything I've ever known_  
_you'll disappear one day_  
_So I'll spend my whole life hiding my heart away."_

* * *

**About Artie and my personal issues:**

**There's no easy way to say it, so I'll go back a bit to explain. I've been trying to get in touch with "Artie" for a while now. I wanted to finally apologize properly, and talk to him about everything, and every time we've seen each other this past couple of years we've hung out and and at the same time he would happily give me a computer lesson because I'm so useless, and he loves teaching me. I think most of all though, he liked that I always make him cupcakes to thank him.**

**He told me he was going to teach me how to use a graphics program next, so I thought I'd use that lesson to figure out how to make a picture cover for this fic. We broke up on good terms in senior year, he already knew it was over before I even told him. He told me it was all right, even though it wasn't.**

**So when he didn't answer my calls for ages I thought it was strange. Then, it became time for me to write his chapter, so I searched for him harder, and found out that he had died of a heart complication that he'd had from birth but wasn't aware of. He hasn't been gone that long, but nobody told me at the time so I only found out a couple of weeks ago.**

**All the things I wrote about him and me were true. He did want to marry me, and for some reason he never got over me right up until the day he died. The ways I treated him were not some of my best moments at all, as you have just read for yourself. It was hard to tell the truth, and not act like I treated him better, but I have to face the facts that I didn't, and for that I'm sorry.**

**I put the lyrics to the song 'Something Stupid' around some of his scenes, because it was like he was singing that to me all along, it's just I never really responded. If anything I was singing that song to Santana. :(**

**He was kind and generous and a real gentleman, and I really did love him in many ways.**

**Rest in peace.**

* * *

**About Santana:**

**I didn't do the right thing by her in this chapter either. I drove her crazy being with Artie, and I knew it. I saw through her defenses and all that, and I didn't let her crush me when she used her 'lizard'-esque lines, but I was wearing down and getting tired and frustrated with her. I was tired of everything being so hard. I was also very young, and only seventeen.**

**I wanted to feel better, and Artie made me feel better, and for the brief time we were together I let myself be selfish. He offered me things that I didn't want to refuse, so I didn't refuse them, even though it was wrong.**

**In the beginning I truly thought Artie and I would just be friends, but then we weren't, and I could see that was driving her nuts. It drove her so crazy in fact, that I think it contributed to her telling me she loved me in the end. Faced with the thought of someone else taking me away from her, she got a little bit braver, but she only went the final step and got brave enough to put herself out there when I told her that I was breaking up with Artie.**

**Fear of loss made her bolder, but then it was only the reassurance that I was still hers while I was in her bed that night that made her say 'I love you.' It was the whole combination in alignment.**

**Also, you may think I'm not censoring her bad language, but I actually am. :P She just really loved to swear. **

* * *

**3 Things:**

**1. The song Brittany sung for Glee club is called 'The Story' by Brandi Carlile and it is an excellent song, and it's actually a better choice than one I actually chose in real life at the time. This isn't the original, I picked this cover because I liked the video a lot. Some of the pictures of the red headed girl reminded me of Santana and the two girls sing it a little bit more like I sing it. /watch?v=4VR4vtR-qww**

**At the time, I actually sung 'When she loved me' by Sarah McLachlan (the sad song from Toy Story 2), and it was my last day with my community theater group because I was getting too old for the program. I didn't have Mercedes, so I had to sing it all by myself. The program was for disadvantaged kids anyway, and NOT for people with my disorder. In fact I'm pretty sure they only let me stay because they liked me and because I helped out a lot and did a lot behind the scenes. There were a lot of empty seats there that day, which made me think of all the kids in the program who I'd said goodbye to over the years. Many had gone into treatment for various types of cancers, or had died, or had moved away looking for a better life. It made me realize I wanted to work with people, especially kids. Kurt's mom was the one who encouraged me, not Will and Emma, but for obvious reasons I couldn't give Kurt a mom for this fic.**

**2. Rachel's fanfic smut porn scene is real.**

**Artie would be looking down on me from heaven, laughing to see that I did indeed revisit FFN, and that I have in fact now attempted a few smut scenes of my own in this story.**

**I do not think I have topped 'the manroot' yet though.**

**My "Rachel's" 'Phantom of the Opera' story would likely still be here somewhere, but the quote I used from it wasn't an actual quote. I made up something equally ridiculous because I couldn't actually remember what she'd written, as I assume I have now blocked it from my subconscious to prevent further trauma. You can blame her for the fact that I'm here at all though! If not for her, I would probably have never have known fanfiction even existed, I live under a rock in that way.**

**3. It was strange, but once I finally mastered saying the 50 states of America in alphabetical order without tripping up on it, I felt competent to try complicated math formulas, and then suddenly I had my nose in a book about the French revolution.  
****Whatever works, I guess? I still recite the 50 states when I'm feeling really stupid, to prove my brain is still there. Even though I know it doesn't prove anything, it does give me a bit of confidence. Santana had well and truly learned the list by 2nd grade though, it was just me who got confused.**

**Also, I do have almost as many issues with storms, as Santana has with her jealousy. She was always a jealous person, but when she was drunk that was when it all came out of her. At prom, she really did steal me millions of balloons. I was so touched.**

**Brittany had a dream about her dad in Chapter 18 which explains the shadow thing, just in case anyone forgot. **

**And Brittany's initial description of herself (I am Brittany S. Pierce. I can dance. I remember stuff that other people forget... etc) to Miss Pillsbury was a slightly modified version of what she said in Chapter 6.**

**Oh wait. One more thing. For that 'the plumbing is different' line, I know I've twisted it around and changed the meaning of it a bit, because I would have personally taken it the way I described it.**

**All Artie/Brittany scenes are over now, and also thankfully all detailed Puck/Santana scenes are now over too. This chapter had to be done though, because I had to show the shift in the Pucktana relationship towards the end, and the shift in Brittany from the Bartie relationship.**

**For Bartie I was honest, for Pucktana I was a bit skewed, picking the least painful things for me to write possible while still telling the story, even though what I chose was bad enough.**

**The next chapter will actually be the last high school chapter. I'll talk about college after that. Thank you all for listening. :)**


	21. Defining Gravity

**I wanted to thank every one of you unicorns very much for the supportive comments about Artie, and all the Christmas and New Years messages too. I have never felt so popular in all my life! This is how Oprah must feel. Okay I'm joking, but so much attention was super cool. :)**

**I think this chapter was perhaps the hardest one to write out yet, and the end might be difficult for some to read. It's certainly been a struggle to write it. Don't worry, I'll keep going though. It was my New Years resolution to keep going and finish this story.  
****(And also to complete Angry Birds, but never mind that!) **

**Bmcbrid – It was your review that made me get up early this morning and obsessively write until I'd finished this chapter :)  
****I think you need an award for reading all that in two days!  
****Thank you so much for what you said, I appreciate it a lot, because I did need to be reminded of the things you told me. Also, I know you're a unicorn, because I can tell you have compassion for people and that's very unicorn, so I'm hereby inviting you personally into my unicorn club. :)**

**Canine Warrior – Hey, it's nice to meet you. :) I like your name! I know it sounds like I'm obsessed with cats, and yeah I really am… but I actually really love dogs too! (just don't tell "Lord T and "Senor" that). Being a great warrior for them sounds super cool. ****I'm so glad my story helped you understand your friend… that actually checks off one of my biggest goals for writing this, because I really did want to help even one person like me in another part of the world be understood better. Thanks for reading. :)**

**Miara848 – I am a very lucky writer :) And that's because in your reviews you sent me cupcakes and cookies and twenty big hugs! I think I must be the luckiest writer ever, actually. :D With 21 chapters, well my story kind of is turning 21 now, so if it wanted to, it's now able to drink, and that would be a funny sight!  
****I loved the song you mentioned by Christina Perri, my favorite line at the moment is "How many times will you let me change my mind and turn around? I can't decide if I'll let you save my life or if I'll drown." Because that was very much like Santana, she could never decide if she wanted to be happy or not, or more likely, if she _deserved_ to be.  
****And also, even though Rachel scared me with her fanfic, I still do love the Phantom of the Opera, it's one of my absolute favorites too, and I've seen it on stage a few times. ****I have to say though… that when the movie version came out, I will never forget the day I could hear Rachel two classrooms away screeching off key "think of me… think of me fonnndly, as we say goodBYEEE" while I was trying to do a test on Apartheid in South Africa, and really needed to not be laughing. :p  
****I hope you had a wonderful Christmas and New years. :) While I was sending balloon mail just after Christmas, I sent you a balloon in the sky to tell you that! *21 big hugs for chapter 21***

**harumad – I know we've already talked about everything, but I wanted to leave you a message here anyway just for fun. :P And also to publically state that your reviews are anything but useless. :)**

**wkgreen – Wow, I'm so impressed you managed to catch up! All that reading and my mastodon sized chapters… wow. I did want to say that you're absolutely right about Santana needing a trustworthy friend outside of me to talk things over with… I wish so hard that she'd had someone to be that for her. If this were really all fiction I would have given Mercedes that role and this all would have been a different story, but unfortunately pretty much everyone at school that we knew seemed to have something against her. Thank you for reading :)**

**Puff614 – Thanks for being a good friend :) I missed you too! I do actually feel a lot more at peace with the Artie situation now, and that's mostly because of comments I've gotten from people here, making me see that it wasn't completely evil of me to get kind of caught up in something that felt good, so long as I was honest with him. ****I'm really looking forward to your thoughts on this new chapter, because your thoughts always seem to help me understand my life better. :)  
****I hope you had a really awesome Christmas and New years!**

**Prattle01 – I just wanted to mention that I'm glad I made you laugh with the last chapter :) I hope you like this one too!**

**VerritoPerroni – All Unicorns are definitely family for sure! Our species must stick together :) I loved your review, it was a wave of positive thoughts like a rainbow :)**

**just. a. dreamer. named. jay - Thanks for encouraging me… and for being so patient! :) This last one was so hard to write!**

**luceroadorada – I like Brandi Carlile too, I might use another one of her songs actually! Thanks so much for your kind words and much love to you back! :)**

**Ascoeur – Thanks so much! And I wish more than anything that Santana was sitting beside me helping me write this, but she doesn't actually know about it… it's a secret. I hope you like this next chapter :)**

**cord – Thank you for the lovely comment and for reading :)**

**xannaxmurderx – I've really enjoyed getting to be your new friend! And I just wanted to say that I hope you enjoy this chapter. :)**

**brittana1314 – Thank you for reading and for your support… and it won't actually be too many chapters more before I say how things worked out in the end. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 21 – Defining Gravity**

**Brittany S. Pierce, Present. **

Can you think of that one moment in your life that you wish you could do over?

That moment where you had one chance to change your life, but you blew it?

Sometimes, after the moment has passed you look back and realize that maybe going ahead with what you missed your chance to do, might not have been such a positive life change after all. But then, you still wish you had tried it anyway, just to be fluid and not stuck.

Santana taught me to stand up for myself and not just fall at anybody's feet. She also did her best to teach me to be strong and independent, and to think for myself.

Neither of us realized that her teaching me those things might one day come crashing down on us.

* * *

**Brittany S. Pierce, age 18**

"Come on, San!" Brittany said grabbing the other girl by the hand, and trying to haul her outside. "It's snowing!"

"No shit, Sherlock," grumbled Santana. "And it's cold and wet," she said digging her feet into the floor and stopping them both in their tracks

"No shit, Sherlock!" Brittany said, giggling. "I love it!"  
She started dancing on the spot, and looking longingly out the window.

"What are you so happy about? Look, we're not even outside yet and your ears are already red from the cold," Santana said, standing on tiptoe and blowing hot hair on one of Brittany's ears, and on impulse taking it between her teeth.

_Wanky,_ Brittany thought hearing the word in Santana's voice, and watching her out of the corner of her eye. She shivered, feeling a tingling sensation run up her spine, knowing that it had nothing to do with the cold. She felt Santana run her tongue over one of the Hello Kitty earrings she was wearing, poking her tongue through the hoop before pulling away slightly to rest her cheek against hers.

"I fucking love Hello Kitty," Santana said, whispering it close to Brittany's lips, and rubbing the back of her fingers over her jaw.

"Mmhmm," Brittany agreed, without even slightly moving a muscle.

Santana smiled, her eyes misting over. She took it as a compliment when Brittany stopped talking, moving, and seemed to even stop breathing when she was touching her like this. She had noticed that Brittany seemed to think that if she didn't do anything to break the spell, then Santana might keep on touching her longer. She pressed her cheek closer still to the blonde's, trying to warm her up. Brittany was always cold.

"You know my nose is red too," Brittany added helpfully, after scrutinizing her reflection in the mirror for a moment. She closed her eyes and felt Santana's lips brush against her nose. "The snow is wicked awesome, San," Brittany promised her, "and I won't bury you in it. Not like how I covered you in sand at the beach."

"Ugh… yeah Britt, please don't," Santana told her. "You know it was already bad enough waking up after an hour of sunbathing to find I had a mermaid tail made of sand that covered almost half my body, so no way am I letting you turn me into a human iceberg by covering me in snow. You know I was finding sand everywhere for weeks? It kept turning up between my toes … in my ears … in my bed."

"Between your boobs..." Brittany deadpanned, matter-of-factly.

"Well that was where _you_ found it," Santana shot back.

Brittany sighed. "You didn't like your mermaid tail?"

"It was a nice tail," Santana relented, "great design and um craftsmanship. It's just not all of us like to get so… _close_ to sand, Britts. Just because you roll around in it, doesn't mean the rest of us want it so dangerously close to getting in our hair."  
_I've never been able to understand how she can just lie directly on the sand, even deliberately getting it in her hair,_ she thought, shuddering.

Brittany tugged on her hand again. "There's no such thing as snow mermaids, only snow queens, so you have nothing to fear," she said, resuming her efforts in trying to drag her outside.

"Well, yeah, and if either of us is going to turn into a human iceberg, it will probably be you anyway," Santana said, swatting her away. "Last time we went out you nearly got frozen solid. I can't figure out how you attract the cold like that! It's like you're a magnet for it."

Brittany's jaw dropped. She didn't want to be a human iceberg. She knew that icebergs were dangerous and could cause a lot of trouble. What if she ran into someone, or if someone ran into her? _Disaster!_

Santana watched her face. "Popsicle?" she suggested instead, after watching Brittany's hands crash together in an imitation of the fate of the Titanic.

Brittany nodded. _I wouldn't mind being a human popsicle_, she thought flashing back to Santana eating a regular one the other day and feeling her face heat up at the thought. She cleared away the naughty-Santana-thoughts from her mind by remembering them both eating Timon and Pumba bug popsicles when they were kids, pooling their money together until they had enough, and then sharing one, even though everyone else said sharing it was more than a little gross.  
She smiled at the memory of younger Santana's innocent little face_. Okay, that's better_, she thought.

Santana smiled back at her and handed her a paper bag that had been sitting on her dresser. "In any case, these should help with the cold," she told her.

Brittany carefully pulled the contents out. "Oh! Red gloves!" she said happily. "They are super awesome!"

"They won't get wet like your other ones." Santana pointed at the label. "See? They're waterproof."  
She had chosen the softest ones the store had, which happened to be the ones with penguins stitched on the side.

"I love them." Brittany slipped them on and flexed her fingers at Santana.  
"My Christmas present to you is totally not gonna be as cool as these, but … but… I'll let you wear my penguin hat while we're outside," she offered, holding up her favorite hat which happened to also be pretty much her favorite thing that she owned.

"Woah, hang on Brittany, this isn't your Christmas present." Santana reached over and tapped the gloves.

"They aren't?"

"Nope."

Brittany's jaw dropped open for the second time in ten minutes. "But you already outdid yourself," she said with wide eyes.

Santana glared at her. "Are you trying to say I don't give you good gifts," she demanded, wondering how a stupid pair of gloves that weren't even meant as a Christmas present could possibly outdo all her genius gifts of the past.  
"Even the Hello Kitty toaster?" she complained softly to herself.

"I'm not saying that," Brittany said, her eyes returning to their regular size. "I'm just saying that I really like these." She clutched the gloves to her chest.

Santana's rage cooled as quickly as it had come. She spied the toaster that she had given Brittany a couple of years ago half sticking out of her travel bag in the corner of the room. Brittany thought the device was a mastermind. It toasted the toast and left a white unburned cat face square in the middle of the bread. After her tenth piece, even Santana herself had felt brainwashed into joining Brittany's Hello Kitty obsession as if the symbol on the bread could dictate mind control. _Or… maybe that little white cat just reminds me of her_, she thought sentimentally.

"Still making Hello Kitty toast?" she asked her, gesturing to the pink object.

Brittany exhaled, relieved that Santana wasn't mad. "I eat pussy every morning," she promised.

Santana snorted with laughter, looking up to see if Brittany had said it on purpose, but Brittany's face was solemn and innocent. Santana shrugged and turned back to her side table looking for a comb to do her hair, and the minute she did, Brittany's face split into a wicked grin. She's spent so long saying inappropriate things without realizing what she was actually saying, that now nobody ever seemed to suspect her of saying them on purpose. And once in a blue moon, on a day like today, she even fooled Santana.

Santana patted the surface of the table, feeling around clumsily and almost knocking over a perfume bottle. "We'll exchange our real gifts on Christmas Day like we always do, silly." She turned and faced Brittany again, having now found the comb she was looking for.

Brittany brightened. That totally meant she still had time to think of something really cool to get Santana. She pried the comb from Santana's hand and began doing Santana's hair herself. She would never get over how beautiful Santana's hair was, it was no wonder that she wanted to keep it away from sand mermaid tails. She hummed as she worked, stealing a few glances at Santana every now and then, wondering why she seemed so preoccupied.

Santana spoke up hesitantly. "We've spent every Christmas together haven't we? Have we ever missed a year since um… ?"

_The year your dad left and I found you crying in my garden_, Brittany thought. "Nope," she said. "Not even the year I got snowed in."  
She paused to think about that, having already finished making Santana's hair shiny, and even more beautiful.  
"Hey San? How did you get in that year?" she asked catching her hand and pulling her outside the house, this time finding no resistance. "Did you come down the chimney, or did you tunnel in like a mole?"

"Sure Britt," Santana agreed.

"No really. How did you do it?"

Santana shrugged. How could she tell her that the reason she'd been able to 'get in' was because she'd been avoiding her own family and had already been camping out at Brittany's house waiting for the Pierce's to return home for days?

"You definitely tunneled in like a mole," Brittany decided. "No, you turned into a Tasmanian Devil and made a whirlwind path to get through."

"Of course I did," Santana told her. "What are you doing?" she asked, seeing Brittany suddenly kneeling on the ground and scooping up snow.

"I'm building a snowman version of you. No wait, a Snowwoman," she corrected herself.

"Oh, I see," Santana said. "Well, then I will make one of you too."

They worked busily for a while, constructing snow people from the ground up, patting the frozen ice into place and molding it to better resemble each other.

When Brittany finally had the shape she wanted, she ran back inside the house, and Santana followed her curiously at a distance, wondering why she could hear the slamming of kitchen cabinets. Brittany eventually returned holding pink food dye, and she generously poured it over the Santana shaped snowwoman's head, turning her pink.

"Ugh, Britts, why the fuck do I have to be pink?" Santana grumbled, watching Brittany perch a hat on her creations head, and then attach one of Santana's own scarves.

"Aren't you both beautiful?" Brittany gestured between them and smiled. She looked from the snowwoman, to the real Santana in turn, clearly finding them equally pleasing to the eye, and therefore being satisfied with her work.

_Well_, Santana thought. _When she puts it like that, it's not so bad._ She watched Brittany gather stones for the mouth, and some twigs for angry eyebrows.

When Brittany made the mouth a little too big she giggled, thinking that in that moment it kind of looked like that claymation abominable snowman from the Rudolph movie, or maybe that new guy, Sam Evans.

"Did you know that the Inuit people have like a billion different words to describe snow?" Brittany mused, still working busily and not looking at her. "Pink snow is called 'mentlana' so I hereby name you Mantlana-tana."

"Getting around to old geography homework?" Santana questioned.

Brittany nodded proudly and Santana disappeared inside to see for herself and easily found the completed homework and pages of research sticking out of Brittany's bag. She remembered her doing it in the car ride over. She had to admit that she was impressed. With the exception of a couple of cat faces drawn down the side of the page, she could tell that Brittany had taken this short essay on Inuit communication very seriously.

She skimmed the page. Personally she would have named herself Tlaprip-tana, after snow that burns your scalp and eyelids, or San-tlayopi after snowdrifts that you fall into that can kill you. Her eyes fell onto another definition on the page and she ran back outside.

"Your snowwoman's name is Britt-sotla," Santana informed her, deliberately not telling her what it meant.

Brittany smiled. She knew from her essay that the word Santana was referring to meant 'snow that sparkled with the sunlight.' She watched Santana arrange leaves and branches to attempt to replicate her Cheerios uniform, and then after a beat she saw her place a stick coming out of Britt-sotla's head.

"Unicorn horn," Santana mumbled, giving her leaves for ears as well.

Brittany smiled, and wrapped her arms around the shorter girl from behind. "I love you," Brittany told her. "But I don't know how to say it like the Inuit people."

_I do,_ Santana thought painfully, remembering her Papi all those years ago taking her out for ice-cream. She remembered him waiting until they both got ice-cream on their noses, and then bumping them together like an Eskimo kiss. She twisted around in Brittany's arms and leaned in closer and bumped her own nose against Brittany's. _Oooh,_ she thought. _Brittany's is definitely colder than my Papi's, even without ice-cream._

Brittany looked troubled. "Sorry," she said.

Santana shrugged. "Cold nose, warm heart," she said, deliberately changing the phrase to suit herself. Brittany wasn't good with sayings anyhow, she probably wouldn't even notice. She still thought 'an apple a day' ended with 'is worth two in the bush.'

Brittany grinned. "In the summer, we'll take your scarf off," she promised Mentlana-tana.

"Um… Britt, they're gonna have melted by then," Santana said slowly. "You realize that, right?"

"Not if I keep them in the ice-box," Brittany insisted, dancing around them.

Santana paused, regarding her with concern.  
"They're just snowmen, Brittany. They melt, okay? They're not meant for keeping," she finally said.

Brittany stopped still.

"Look, Mr and Mrs Jackson next door have made snow people of each other too," Santana said pointing. "They'll melt as well. Don't fight it, it's just what happens."

Brittany exhaled slowly, running a gloved hand over her Santana-shaped snowman's face. "Just stay for next summer… and the one after that," she mumbled to her.

"Brittany I love you, I do, but I'll be long gone by then. I have to go okay? I know you're not just talking about snowmen, and I have to tell you I'm not going to stay in Lima. You understand that don't you? And you can't keep me in the icebox," she joked.

Seeing Brittany's face, Santana knew that the joke had fallen flat.

"I so wouldn't do that," Brittany said miserably, looking at her feet.

"I know, I know. It's okay." Santana tried to bring the nice afternoon back around, but the air was beginning to get colder, the sun was setting, and Brittany was shivering.

Santana put her arms around her and held her as tight as she could in the puffy snow suit she was wearing. "Come inside now," she told her. "You're freezing. You wanna bake gingerbread cookies?"

"Yeah," Brittany agreed, wiping away a tear that halfway down her face that had already practically turned to ice.

While they baked cookies they watched Elf, and Santana was relieved when Brittany cheered up enough to attempt to be sneaky and steal cookie dough, and then to sing along to 'Baby it's cold outside' with the movie characters.

"You kind of remind me of Buddy the elf," Santana told her, smirking.

"Who, me?" Brittany asked, her mouth full of cookie dough.

"Yeah," Santana said pointing to the paper chains hanging all the way up the stair railings. "You stayed up all night to decorate my house last week like he did in the movie."  
_And you're just as eccentric and childlike,_ Santana thought.

"Elves are kind of like slaves to the holiday," Brittany told her, wishing she could lick the cookie dough off her fingers, but knowing it wasn't polite. "I decorated of my own free will."

Santana caught her looking at her fingers, and raised Brittany's hand up to her own mouth and licked the dough off her fingers.

Brittany giggled. It was still good manners if Santana did it for her. "What's your favorite Christmas movie, San?" she asked.

"Bad Santa," Santana told her. "It has none of that sappy shit."

Brittany hadn't seen that movie but she nodded anyway, and started icing one of the baked gingerbread men, breaking off his foot and shoving it in her mouth and hoping Santana wouldn't notice.

Santana didn't. She looked down at the counter at the hands, turning them over and over, as if she wasn't sure if she should say something.  
"Okay, and I used to like Frosty the snowman," she told her in a small voice. "It was this ancient old cartoon version, and Frosty was way cuter than Sam Evans the Abominable Snowman in Rudolph. I think I still have it somewhere."

Brittany nodded distractedly, wondering if the gingerbread man by her hand really needed his arms. She could always say he was born a little different to the others.

Santana was staring at her. "Do you want to watch it," she said hesitantly, seeing the end credits of Elf rolling on the screen.

"Definitely," Brittany told her, going all out and swiping a gingerbread head instead when Santana's back was turned.

"I saw that!" Santana said, without turning around.

Brittany froze. "You got eyes in the back of your head, San?"

"Yep," Santana told her.

Brittany giggled. "Then what was the point of you turning around all those times when I was getting dressed when we were younger, if you were still looking anyway?"

_Because Brittany, I only really have eyes in the back of my head when I turn around and can freely ogle your unsuspecting naked reflection in my mirror,_ Santana thought smirking.  
"Come on Britt, let's sit on the sofa and watch the movie," she said instead, effectively ending the conversation.

Breathless, for the first time Brittany watched Frosty the snowman come to life with a magic hat, and for the millionth time, Santana let herself get caught up in the story.

Brittany grabbed at Santana's arm when it was decided that Frosty would have to move to the North Pole so he wouldn't melt. Santana squeezed her hand back, lacing their fingers together and slowly rubbing her thumb across Brittany's palm. Warm and comfortable, Brittany had fallen asleep leaning against Santana's shoulder by the time Frosty melted into a puddle, and Santana was glad of it, deciding that she would only nudge her awake when this part was over and Frosty was back on his feet.  
Brittany stirred the moment Santana shook her arm gently, and Santana pointed to the screen at Frosty walking around as large as life expecting to see her smile, but instead Brittany frowned, her face scrunching up in pain.

Jumping up, and tearing herself from Santana's embrace, Brittany rushed outside with Santana chasing after her a few steps behind.

"Hey! Britt where are you going?" Santana called out desperately, not even bothering to put on her coat or shoes. She knew Brittany wasn't wearing hers either. "Come back inside! You'll freeze."

She saw Brittany take a long pause beside their snow creations and raise her hand as if to strike them or touch them, and then seem to change her mind, her hand falling back to her side.

Santana caught up with her and stood a short distance away. "Britt seriously," she said, "we'll do whatever you want to do outside tomorrow."  
_Is this about the movie?_ she thought.

Brittany made a strange noise in the back of her throat and she stiffened, her body going taut and rigid.

"We can even make our own Frosty if you like," Santana promised, worriedly watching Brittany's shoulders heave, and hearing her sobs begin to fill the emptiness of the night. "What's the matter?"

In response, Brittany jumped the low fence into the Jackon's garden, and she grabbed hold of one of the long glowing candy canes that formed a decorative fence around a large blow up Santa, and with some effort, she finally pulled it out of the snow. She raised it high in the air, and she ran towards the Jackson's snowmen.

Santana gasped.

"You don't need any magic," Brittany shouted at the snow figures that the couple next door had made earlier. "You're already married. You'll be fine."

Brittany swung the stick and hit 'Mr Jackson' as hard as she could, knocking the pipe out of his mouth and the hat off his head. She swung again, hitting repetitively at 'Mrs Jackson,' until she too fell to pieces beside her 'husband.'

"Brittany," Santana said shocked, unable to get any more words out. This was more like something she'd do, not something that seemed at all typical of her usually gentle, nonviolent Brittany. If she was honest with herself, then she would admit that she'd probably knock down someone's snowman any day of the week to get her kicks, but she wouldn't do it like this, not crying as if her heart was breaking.

She watched Brittany fall to her knees beside the ruined snowmen, throwing the glowing candy cane aside, and she knelt beside her, pulling her into a tight hug. "Come on, Britts, please. Hey, I love you Britt, but you know I just have to go," she said holding her close and pressing kisses all over her face.  
"But it's not like I'm not going to melt like a snowman, I'll still be around," she promised her.

Brittany's sobs tapered off slowly until she stopped gasping for breath, and was just making small hiccupping noises.  
"They don't need the snowmen because they have each other," Brittany told Santana in a rough emotional voice, pointing at the window where no doubt Mr and Mrs Jackson were inside sleeping in each others arms, unsuspecting of the scene going on outside.  
"They wouldn't even think of keeping a snowman in the ice-box to hold on longer. It's not fair," Brittany said not sure if she was making much sense anymore but trying anyway.

Santana's teeth were chattering. "I just can't stay in Lima, okay?" she told her, "but I'll miss you baby girl, and I'll come visit you as much as I can."

"I know," Brittany said miserably. "I know. I just… I just love you San. Look what I did to their pretty snowmen. They spent hours making them."

"Hey, the Jackon's didn't need their stupid snowmen, so now ours will be the ones to come to life and live at the North Pole together like in the movie," Santana promised her.

"I wish I were them then. I wish I was her," Brittany said, pointing backwards to their yard at the snow depiction of herself.

"Well, pink or not, I sort of wish I really was her other half," Santana said trying to smile.

Brittany tried to smile back.

"Britt…," Santana started, feeling a rare feeling come over her. "You know, when I'm gone, you won't be any less smart or beautiful or kind."

Brittany looked down at her bare feet.

"Hey," Santana told her, "you are lot smarter than you believe you are, you know. And you're stronger and braver than you think. You're gonna be okay."

Santana almost couldn't believe what she was saying. It wasn't the fact that she didn't believe the words, because she really did believe them. It was the fact that she was freely admitting that Brittany could survive without her. Santana knew it wasn't one of her better qualities, but she liked to think that nobody could survive without her. To have reduced her own importance down like that proved only one thing; that she must love Brittany very much.

"I love you, Britt," she whispered.

Brittany gave her a weak smile, moving in to kiss her in response, tangling her fingers up in her hair before finally breaking away, and then looking down. "San, where's your shoes, you'll get sick," she said worried.

"You haven't got yours either, and your feet look worse than mine, they're turning blue," Santana said, pulling Brittany up and half dragging her inside.

A siren wailed in the distance. Brittany looked up. "They've come for me! They know I killed Mr and Mrs Jackson!"

* * *

"They're here," Brittany murmured, cracking open her eyes. "It's the cops, they've found me. It's the cops. The cops."

"Britts, wake up!" Santana said standing over her.

"I'm going to jail," Brittany whined, lifting her arms up and pulling Santana down on top of her.

"Oh, so we're playing this game again are we?" Santana asked, wondering if they were going to pretend to be saucy police officers.

Brittany proved her wrong by pulling Santana closer, holding her tight.

"Oh… okay," Santana sighed. _This again_, she thought. She recognized the signs. Brittany was getting clingy again about her leaving. She'd probably had a bad dream about it… again.

Brittany still hadn't opened her eyes up all the way. She squeezed Santana, scrunching up her face. "The sirens… the snowmen."

"That was months ago now, Britt," Santana told her. "That was at Christmas, remember? And even though you did go all Lima Heights on the Jackson's snowmen, the sirens weren't for you, they were for some street gang."

She brushed a lock of hair back off of Brittany's face, and Brittany finally managed to get both her eyes open, trying her hardest to wake herself up.

Santana steeled herself as Brittany's blue eyes finally opened all the way and focused on her. They were preparing for the move in different ways. Brittany, by clinging tighter. Santana, by trying to find her distance. With a sad, longing look, and a kiss pressed to Brittany's nose, Santana detached herself from the blonde and went to sit back on her bed.

They were in Santana's room trying to pack up all her stuff and decide what she could take with her to college, and what she would have to leave here to an 'unknown fate.'

There were just three weeks until graduation, and Santana could tell Brittany seemed to be struggling with her inevitable departure more and more as each day went by, though she had never once argued with her or seriously tried to convince her not to go.

Her eyes finally focusing, Brittany found that she was now clutching a giant zebra instead of Santana, and she tried not to be phased. She knew Santana was destined for bigger and better things. She only wished that those things didn't have to be bigger and better than her. She thought back to her dream and tried to get back the feeling of last Christmas._ Last Christmas_, she thought, _but_ _please don't let it be our last one. _

"That zebra," Santana said, surveying her packing boxes, "um, you gave me that didn't you?"

"Yeah," Brittany said. "In the fifth grade. For Christmas."

"He can't come with me," Santana said regretfully. "He's too big to hide. Some asshole will get a hold of him and hump him or something and I just can't subject him to that." She went over and kissed his muzzle. "Bye Zeepers Peepers," she said.

"Dream keeper," Brittany added smiling, finishing off his name. She had given him to Santana to protect her from bad dreams when she couldn't be there.

Santana gave her a little smile. If she took all the presents that Brittany had given her over the years with her to college, then she would have no space at all in her bag for anything else. _Maybe I could just take one or two?_ she thought.

Brittany's mind followed a similar train of thought. "That snow globe you got me for Christmas last year was totally awesome, and if I ever have to go anywhere it's definitely coming with me" Brittany told her, picturing the Lady and The Tramp snow globe as it had sat wrapped in pink paper under the tree, until Brittany had enthusiastically ripped the packaging open.  
It featured the dogs sharing a plate of spaghetti inside a round dome. Brittany loved to shake it up and down because then the snow and glitter inside would fall around the dogs while the notes of Bella Notte played, high pitched and tinkly like from a music box.

"I love the scrapbook you gave me too," Santana said, picking it up from her desk. She smiled at it and traced the letters on the cover, then put it down again. It was the perfect gift.

Noticing that Brittany was finally sitting upright, she went and stood behind her to work on her hair. It was messy. It looked kind of like post-sex hair. _Yeah, okay it actually is post-sex hair,_ Santana admitted to herself. Before Brittany had fallen asleep, they had made the most of the fact that they had the house to themselves.

"I had so wanted to get you the perfect gift," Brittany told her eying the scrapbook. She had originally picked Santana out a hair straightener after listening to her whine for almost an hour about how it was the end of the world because her hair was being impossible to manage, with or without it even being (as she described it) 'post-sex hair.'  
Initially figuring that sorting out Santana's hair issues might make her happiest, Brittany had been all set to buy it, but on the day they had built the snowmen, she had realized she wanted to get Santana something more personal, and had stayed up every night until Christmas getting the scrapbook finished.

Brittany felt Santana move her hair to the side temporarily, and she watched her curiously as the other girl then crossed over to her desk, picking the scrapbook up again and dropping it in her lap.

"Show me the pages," Santana said, resuming her work, making sure she wasn't leaving any stray strands on Brittany's face because she knew she hated that.

Brittany opened to the first page. She had designed it month by month, and on the January pages she had photos and memories of all the times they had spent together from all the January's that had passed by, right up until now.

Brittany's personal favorite page was the Christmas page for the December section, as it featured as many Christmas photos as she could possibly fit. She skipped ahead excitedly, and found the page she was thinking of. Her eyes immediately went to a silly photo from last year where she was wearing a mistletoe hairclip in her hair, hoping Santana would take the hint and kiss her all day.

Santana looked over her shoulder from where she was now sectioning out Brittany's hair behind her and combing it gently. "God, we look so cheesy in all these pictures," she moaned. "Also, angels," she said, pointing at a shot from their first nativity play.

Brittany grinned. It had been a disaster. Some kid had fallen right off the stage, and in her enthusiasm to sing as loud as possible, Brittany had almost fallen off herself. Luckily she had been saved by Santana, who had then deliberately tripped up both a sheep and a donkey as they went by, and had spent the rest of the time whining that she had to pee. _At least we totally both looked the cutest in our costumes,_ she thought tracing the outline of the tinsel in Santana's hair.

She looked at the photo that was artistically featured beside it from the day they had again been dressed up as angels for some lame 'Run Joey Run' music video, starring none other than one Rachel Berry. _Angels_, Brittany thought her eyes roaming over Santana's picture. _And also, cleavage_.

Finishing up with Brittany's hair, Santana came to life with a start and grabbed the book from Brittany's lap and dropped it into the box labeled 'college.'  
_If I can only take one thing from her, it has to be this_, Santana thought.

Brittany smiled at her and went back to sit on her bed. She had been certain that Santana would never take anything in public that featured a photo of them on the front page with a heart drawn around it. She tried to catch the other girl's eye. Eventually Santana looked up and returned the smile, holding her gaze.

"Santana… what are we?" Brittany said suddenly, out of the blue.

Santana's smile dropped. She didn't look away, though a small gasp died on her lips. She had always known that Brittany would come out and ask her that question one day, and she was surprised she had held back on asking for so long, especially as she was normally so outspoken about everything else.

Nervously, Santana tried brushing the question off. "We're Brittany and Santana," she told her, hoping she'd accept that as her answer and leave it alone.

"No, San. I mean, who are we together?"

Brittany's legs were dangling over the side of the bed where she was sitting. She was kicking them up and down anxiously every now and then like she physically couldn't sit still.

"Together? Well… I guess then we're Santittany?" Santana said and tried to smirk, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"San! I'm serious." Brittany's eyes were intense and pleading, and they said it all; _please_ _tell me now, we haven't got much time. _

Santana's voice hardened, "I'm not interested in labels, unless it's on something I shoplift."

"This relationship is really confusing for me." _Why else would we have sex all the time if we're not a couple and not totally in love with each other's insides and outsides?_ Brittany thought.

"Breakfast is confusing for you," Santana said tossing more things into a bag and digging through her drawers.

"Well sometimes it's sweet, and sometimes it's salty. Sometimes it's even both at the same time like bacon flavored pancakes," Brittany said, trying to describe Santana's own moods with food. One moment Santana could be so sweet to her, and the next she seemed completely distant with a harsh bite to her words. Sometimes she was even a confusing mix of the two.

Brittany thought of something else. "Like, what if I have breakfast for dinner? What's that supposed to be? It kind of feels the same as celebrating your birthday on the wrong day of the year. I tried that, and no matter how many times I blew out the candles, if it was still the wrong day, and I still wasn't a year older. Food is kind of the same. No matter how many eggs or pancakes you eat at dinner, you've still missed breakfast."  
_And no matter how many times we touch each other, if we don't have some kind of mutual understanding, then we're not really in a relationship,_ Brittany thought painfully.

"Britts, look!" Santana pulled out a small multicolored square of fabric which had seen better days to distract her.

In spite of herself, Brittany smiled. _Santana really still had it? _

"It's the Unillama pee t-shirt" she said picturing little Santana wearing hers and swinging on the monkeys bars with her, all the while being ready to punch anyone who teased them for being dressed alike.

"Yes," Santana giggled, "yes it is."

"I still have mine too. Lord Tubbington wore it for ages. He grew from cat sizes into kids sizes the same time I grew from kids sizes into adult sizes. I told him it was a like special patch to help him quit smoking but it never worked."

Santana scoffed, fingering the shirt. "This looks like something that would actually encourage people to smoke, it looks like something out of a seventies Woodstock festival. Practically never taking this shirt off when we were kids, is clearly why I now have a cigar habit," she informed her.

Brittany frowned. _No wonder my cat had problems_, she thought.

Seeing the look on her face, Santana stared at her, and after a beat her own face changed into an expression of fondness and nostalgia.

"You still have that ridiculous pout," Santana told her. "I swear you could convince someone to give up their entire kingdom with that pout. I can still picture you in your matching shirt looking at me just like that, patiently waiting for me to look at you and then stop beating up whichever asshole kid that had got up in my grill on the playground that day."

"By the power of my face I stopped the violence," Brittany said proudly.

"Yes," Santana said softly, tossing the tiny shirt into the 'college' box to take with her. So far her packing was going great. All she had in the box was a kids t-shirt and a pink scrapbook. _Great job, Santana_, she thought sarcastically.

"Aww, San," Brittany cooed. _Santana's totally never this sentimental_, she thought.

"Shut up," Santana said, but she was smiling. "Hey Britt, you can have anything I can't take with me. Well… you know, that is if you want it. My mom is only going to throw everything out anyway."

Brittany smiled back and went over to the 'leave here' box and crossed the 'here' out and wrote 'at Brittany's' instead.

"Oh, and these are yours," Santana said pulling out a stack of papers. "We did all these at my house, and I guess they've piled up over the years."

Brittany flipped through them. "Wow. Were my essay writing skills really that bad back then?" she asked.

"Not bad," Santana corrected, "just not on topic. And most of your focus went into ungraded illustrations."

Brittany paused. "I'm going to graduate because of you, San," she said, giving her a warm, adoring smile.

"Not because of Artie?" Santana asked jealously knowing how much Artie and Brittany had studied together for her exams.

"Yes, Artie helped a lot too," Brittany said brightly.

Santana sighed.

"But you've been there from the beginning," Brittany said leaning forward and tilting Santana's chin up. "You've been there all through school. You were there first, and you stayed until the end, and you totally helped me survive in this confusing world. You were like the scarecrow … you were the first one that pointed out the way that I should go through the cornfield down the yellow brick road, even before I met the Tin Artie Robot."

She paused.  
"Senor can be Toto even though he's getting as heavy as Lord Tubbington was, and I can't carry him in a basket anymore."

"And who is the cowardly lion in this fantasy of yours?" Santana said smirking, realizing that Brittany was making a The Wizard of Oz reference.

"Miss Pillsbury!" Brittany giggled. "She helped me too, and she so has a lustrous red mane like the lion, and she's totally afraid of everything, even her grapes. She acts like dust and dirt is gonna kill her even though we're probably all swallowing dust right now and having a dust monster build up inside of us."

"Seriously don't tell her that Britt, she'll like, jump out of a window into fresher air or something."

Brittany paused for a moment. "You were there from the beginning," she repeated. "and I think I'll miss you most of all, San."

Tears unwillingly sprung to Santana's eyes. It was still a movie quote, originally from Dorothy to the Scarecrow, but it didn't feel at all like Brittany had regressed back to using other people's words to express herself. Sometimes there was no better way to say things than words that had already been said in the past, because even though they had been said before, they weren't any less true or meaningful to the person who said them second.

Brittany squinted at her, trying to control her own emotions. She really did feel like she was about to climb into a balloon destined for Kansas. She knew that she wasn't actually _going_ to Kansas, but it did feel like she was about to return to her old black and white colorless world, losing a world full of magic and Technicolor. She thought Dorothy was kind of an idiot for not wanting to stay in Oz.

"You taught me everything that I know, and you made me who I am," Brittany told Santana, fingering the heart shaped pendant she had given her years ago.

Santana swallowed back the lump in her throat.

"It's okay that you won't say it, it's okay that you won't say what we are," Brittany said even though they both knew that wasn't true.

Santana shook her head. She didn't know what she was refusing, maybe it was Brittany's forgiveness.

Brittany stepped closer to her. "Maybe defining 'us' is kind of like defining gravity," Brittany told her, shrugging her shoulders and trying to be brave. The last thing she wanted was for Santana to feel bad.

Santana felt the lump in her throat somehow seem to get twice as big.

"Because gravity… I mean… I can't explain that." Brittany lifted her hand up and dropped it back down again in an imitation of gravity, catching Santana's hand on the way. "Maybe we can't be defined."

"Fucking gravity," Santana mumbled, only just barely finding her voice.  
_I think you're talking about defying gravity, Brittany, because I would need a fucking broomstick and magical powers to confront what's going on here_, she thought.

Brittany put her arms around Santana who grasped back at her, trying to hold onto any part of her she could. "See, it's like gravity…," Brittany said brightly when their bodies didn't have an inch of space between them. "Like forces attracting one thing to another thing. You've gotta be a physicist to understand and label that sort of stuff."

_Why can't I tell her? _Santana thought_. Why does it feel like I'm all tied in knots, including my tongue? _

_Why?_

* * *

The last few weeks flew by in a blur. Everyone was in a flurry of excitement exchanging numbers, making plans, and both the Glee club and the Cheerios had ended up winning nationals.

Brittany was fast developing an obsession with holding on to photos for dear life, as if they contained the memories themselves, safe in a time capsule.

Santana's scrapbook had just had its final three pictures pasted in.

The first picture had been taken at the National Cheerleading competition. Both girls were grinning broadly, with Brittany lifting Santana high in the air in a victorious pose front and centre of the Cheerios, as they were crowned the first place winning team.

Sue Sylvester's brilliant routine to 'Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds' had been critically acclaimed, with all of the judges finding the diamond encrusted uniforms appealing to the eye, and the 'rain of diamonds' a pleasant alternative to the unusual confetti.

They found the routine even more appealing when the diamonds were directly shot at the judging panel, that was until the sharp flying objects nearly put out the one remaining eye of the celebrity judge.

Coach Sue had also taken a literal approach to 'in the sky' making sure no Cheerio's feet touched the ground for more than five seconds. Santana had been proud to be on the winning team, and Brittany was just happy to see Santana happy.

The next picture was of the Glee Nationals win. The crowd had gone wild during the mash up of Tribute by Tenacious D and Angel of Harlem by U2. The girls had dressed as angels with Santana and Mercedes on lead vocals, and the boys had dressed as devils with Puck taking the male lead. Brittany thought that the whole concept was ridiculous but it somehow seemed to work, and she had even got a few lines to sing as a solo. Best of all, she now had a third picture of Santana and herself dressed as angels added to her scrapbook.  
_Maybe we should dress up in these same costumes and take a picture every year right up until we go into the old ladies home together?_ Brittany mused.

The next song had been some sappy 'Finnchel' number, and as the couple had kissed on stage, Brittany and Santana had sat it out, avoiding everyone else and kissing in a storage room backstage.

The last picture was of the two of them graduating together, taken only yesterday. Brittany's eyes were wide as if she couldn't believe it was really happening, and Santana was wearing a cocky smirk. It didn't feel real to Brittany. It felt like there was no way she could make herself believe that she'd actually done it. They had been instructed to stand in alphabetical order while speeches were being made and while the ceremonial candles were being lit, but Santana wasn't going to put up with that.

L for Lopez was a few letters away from P for Pierce, but luckily there weren't many people in the student body whose names started with an M, N or an O. Ignoring any protesting, Santana had quickly shoved anyone that was between them aside, and she had stood next to Brittany anyway, and they had held hands, walking out with their diplomas whilst 'The Scientist' played.  
Brittany hadn't been able to tell if Santana was remembering how they had danced to the same song outside the building exactly one year ago, until Santana had side eyed her wistfully and squeezed her hand.

_Oh, take me back to the start._

* * *

Today was final day of senior year, the end of an era. All the ceremonies and events were now over, and today was the optional final day where lockers were to be cleaned out if they hadn't been already, and final goodbyes had to be made.

Santana had been unusually quiet all week, but today her eyes were wild and she had excess energy coming off her in waves. Brittany figured she was excited because she was leaving for LA the next morning. Brittany was personally trying not to think about it, fearing that if she did she would break down in tears in front of her.

_And that wouldn't be a very polite way to say goodbye now would it?_ Brittany thought. _Maybe I could sing a goodbye song to her like Rachel and Finn are doing right now to every single classroom they had ever had classes together in._

Brittany could hear Rachel and Finn loud and clear. Right now they were serenading the cafeteria, trying their hardest to ad lib good memories into the song, and finding very few nice comments to make about the food.  
_Sometimes Rachel and Finn make kind of a sweet couple_, Brittany thought, liking their attempts at positivity. _But that doesn't mean I'm gonna get a shirt made that says 'Team Finnchel.' _

Santana clearly wasn't sharing the same sentiment, her eyes were getting a workout with all the eye rolls she was doing in their direction. She also had some sort of sharp object in her hand and was carving something into the wood at the corner of their table.

Brittany stared at her with soft eyes, and finding a song in her mind and her heart, she began singing the lyrics to Santana in her head.

"_Of all the things I've believed in  
I just want to get it over with  
Tears form behind my eyes  
But I do not cry  
Counting the days that pass me by_

_I've been searching deep down in my soul_  
_Words that I'm hearing are starting to get old_  
_It feels like I'm starting all over again_  
_The last three years were just pretend_  
_And I said,_

_Goodbye to you_  
_Goodbye to everything I thought I knew_  
_You were the one I loved_  
_The one thing that I tried to hold on to_  
_The one thing that I tried to hold on to"_

"Brittany! Hey, why are you staring at me like that?" Santana asked. "Earth to Brittany!"  
She reached out and wiped away a stray tear from Brittany's face.

"Hmmm? What?" Brittany asked trying to pull herself together.

"We're going to say goodbye now," Santana told her.

_I just did,_ Brittany thought. "Um… okay… goodbye Santana."

Santana made an exasperated noise. "Not to me! I'll say goodbye to you last. We're going to say goodbye to the freaking Glee club. Come on, hurry up! I've got to get at least five more insults in while everyone is having lunch. If I'm lucky I might give them indigestion."  
She took large powerful strides over to the Glee club table.

Brittany scrambled out of her seat and chased after her.

Santana saw Finn first. "Hey Humpback, I'm sorry to disturb you, especially as I can see you're about to dig into your daily 8,000 Quarter Pounder meals, but I just wanted to say, that thanks to that little song that you and Rachel sang just now to communicate a tearful and heartbreaking goodbye to the lunchroom, my ears are now bleeding. I understand your need to celebrate where you have publically and disgustingly masticated with your mouth open these past few years, but I personally am internally rejoicing at the fact that it's a sight I will never have to see again. I hope you're grateful that I was otherwise occupied during your 'performance' by my need to scratch Britts and my initials into the side of our table, or you may have found one of these standard issue plastic forks driven into your massive blow hole, shortening your potential whale life span of fifty years, by half. Some might say that these long droning songs you sing during mating season are cute, but I know that in the wild, it's the humpback who can sing and hold their breath the longest that gets the girl, and not only do I personally know for a fact that you are a two seconds or less kind of guy, with this jammed into your blowhole, you might find that one pathetic 'achievement' of yours declining, and for the rest of your miserable existence you will probably be known as 'microsecond Finn' if you know what I mean."

_Santana's talking about premature ejaculation!_ Brittany thought, giggling internally, very proud of herself to have actually figured it out. She paused.  
_Hang on, guys get mad if you say something like that. _Her nose crinkled up with worry. _  
_She knew that when Santana insulted Finn he could hit back hard and say things that were a lot more personal and hurtful than what Santana had said to him.

Finn opened his mouth to speak, his eyes wide.

Brittany stepped in front of Santana and struck a tough stance, trying to make herself seem bigger than she was. "Watch out, I'm actually scarier than her, and I'm gonna tear you a new blowhole, and it will totally be like the opposite of a rainbow," she told him waving around her own plastic fork as menacingly as she could.

There was a silence.

"I'll miss you too Brittany," Finn said amused, smiling at her.

Realizing that he wasn't going to pick on Santana, Brittany smiled back.

_Oh, so he's not even gonna take the bait today_, Santana thought. _Not even if it's whale bait._ She smirked at her own pun.

"And you too Santana," Finn added generously.

Santana ignored him and moved on to Tina. "Tina. I'm not sure I'll notice for ages if you're still around in my life on not," Santana said. "For all I know you could be, because everyone keeps saying you never transferred to another school this year and I was pretty sure you did. You too, Mike."

Brittany shrugged at Mike indifferently, then came and hugged Tina nicely, then deliberately stood on her foot for something mean she had said to Santana in their freshman year that she hadn't got her back for yet. Then, after a beat she stood on the other one for good measure.

"Oww…," Tina said, looking at Brittany who was smiling angelically. She sighed. "You'll be catching up with me next week, Britt. No arguments. Bring Satan if she's still around by some anti-miracle."

"And eat your freaky Asian food?" Santana muttered. "No way."

"Yes," Rachel piped up. "We shall all engage in many routine gatherings in order to keep ourselves well socially acquainted," she promised everyone. "I'll have my people call you… as soon as I get people that is."

Mercedes came up to them both, and gently knocked Santana and Brittany's heads together as if to force them to be closer, or maybe to knock some sense into them. Then she hugged Santana for as long as she'd allow it, and Brittany for much longer.

"Good luck Britt," she said, looking at them both meaningfully and whispering to Brittany cryptically. "I don't think it's too late."

Brittany shrugged at her. Santana was leaving tomorrow, and she didn't know when she was visiting next. Besides, it wasn't like she hadn't tried to get her Jamaican crustacean on and set up lots of kisses, The Little Mermaid style. Kisses didn't fix _everything_. She knew that now.  
She watched Mercedes whisper something in Santana's ear, seeing Santana turn her face away to hide her reaction.

Kurt came up to Brittany next. "I promise I'll be there for you," he told her seriously. "If you think you're alone, you're not. If you need me you just call me, okay? Don't forget that."

"Oh my god Kurt, overprotective much?" Santana said pulling away from Mercedes, her irritation plain. "Brittany will be fucking fine," she said all in a rush with her voice trembling on the last syllable, though her face gave away nothing.

A silence descended over the group as if nobody really believed that Brittany could actually survive without Santana. They were rarely seen apart, and it seemed to them that it was even rarer to see Brittany ever do anything for herself.

Brittany shifted and cleared her throat, then reached into her pocked pulling out a stack of Pixy Stix. She handed them out to everyone then ripped off the top of her own, and gestured for everyone else to do the same, waiting until they all did.

"Here's to us," Brittany said grinning, and raised hers high in the air. Laughing, Mercedes joined her and touched hers to Brittany's, waiting until everyone else joined in and put their hands in the air.

Only Santana stayed motionless, staring at Brittany, her thoughts plain.

_I think I'll miss you more than anything_, thought Santana. _No, how did her quote go?_

_I think I'll miss you most of all._

* * *

By the end of the day Santana had ticked off and insulted everyone on her list, and once she had the 'Snix' out of her system, she became nostalgic and tearful, and had gone off to apologize to anyone she had just snarked. She even was considering apologizing to Finn. Maybe.

Brittany had wandered around by herself for ages, successfully managing to say goodbye to everything quietly without bursting into song or adding to the graffiti to leave her mark. Now, she was at her locker cleaning it out slowly and staring fondly at the photographs she had pulled off the side.

Most of the photos were of Santana. Some had Kurt or Quinn 'elegantly' photobombing the shot, some were of her family, and some were of Lord Tubbington and Senor.

Some were of just Brittany herself. She'd thought it was weird putting up pictures of herself, but Santana had insisted.

Those pictures were of herself were old, but special. Brittany hated getting her picture taken, preferring to pull a silly face. But, one day when Santana had begged to take pictures of her with her new camera Brittany had relented, unable to say no.

"_The camera never lies," 13 year old Santana insisted, "and it takes pictures from the point of view of the one holding it. I'm going to take some pictures and show you what you look like to me. You'll finally see you like I see you."_

_Four unspoken words hung between them: 'and you'll be cured'._

_Both girls knew that Brittany wouldn't really be cured. All the books on Brittany's condition said that she would have trouble seeing things from any other person's perspective but her own. _

_But, Santana figured that maybe they could make some progress. If Brittany could even kind of understand how Santana saw her, that would not only show her how much she cared for her, but it would also count as kind-of-sort-of beating the disorder, even if it wasn't 'the cure.'_

_They had spent the whole afternoon on the beach, lazily digging their feet in the sand and paddling in the waves. The whole time, Santana had constantly had her camera out ready to snap Brittany at any given minute, and Brittany soon got used to it. _

_When they got the photos developed, Brittany had just looked at them quietly without saying anything. She thought Santana must so disappointed with them. They all just looked like pictures of her being caught unawares by the camera, and forgetting to remember to pose. _

_Santana surprised her and flipped through them, clearly pleased with her work. She held Brittany's hand and manipulated her fingers until they were tracing up and down the photos together, pouting out facial expressions. _

"_See this picture, Britt?" The photo was of Brittany looking in the distance, a small frown on her face. "That's what you look like when you're lonely, you kind of shrink into yourself and look away. That's how I know that I haven't understood something you've said, because the one thing you hate most is being misunderstood."_

_Brittany nodded. She could almost kind of see that now. _

"_And this one…oh, I like this one." Santana pointed at a photo taken from an odd angle with Santana half in the shot. Brittany had picked her up and started spinning her around. Santana had her head thrown back and was laughing, and Brittany's eyes were sparkling, though she was looking away from the camera._

"_This is what you look like when you're happy. Your smile lights up the room, Britt."_

"_What about this one?" Brittany asked her looking interested, and pointed to another one of herself leaning over and drawing something in the sand. _

"_That's what you look like when you're confused. Your face scrunches all up like an English bulldog," Santana told her._

"_Those animals have such a hard life," Brittany commented and Santana didn't question it. _

"_Which one is the real me?" Brittany asked, unintentionally making that exact face Santana had just described. _

"_All of them!" Santana laughed, "there are many sides to you. You're fluid, Brittany, not stuck."  
_"_This one isn't you though," she said pushing aside one where Brittany was obviously posing and all too aware that the camera was there. Her face appeared blank and expressionless, although she was clearly trying to smile._

"_You're you more, when nobody's watching, when you just be, without trying." _

"_So are you Santana," Brittany said linking their pinkies, "I guess we've got that in common."_

_Santana nodded. _

"_Hey, what about this one?" Brittany asked suddenly, grabbing a picture that had been hidden underneath the others._

_In the shot her eyes were impossibly soft, and it was obvious that she was gazing adoringly at the person taking the picture, rather than paying any attention to the camera itself. She was excitedly holding up a crab that Santana had just caught and given her, and her mouth was open slightly as if she was just about to tell her something really important. _

_Santana hesitated for a second wondering how to phrase it. _

_Then she smiled. "That one, Britts, is just how you look at me."_

* * *

Brittany took that one photo down carefully, putting it between the pages of one of her history books. She didn't want to lose it. School had finished twenty minutes ago, but Brittany knew that she would be here for at least another half hour while she finished cleaning out her locker. She was slow like that.

She also knew that Santana was still around here somewhere, and she hoped that they would get to walk out of the gates together for the final time.  
_But maybe Santana's changed her mind and can't deal with being quite that sentimental, and has already gone home_, Brittany thought sadly.  
Brittany hoped not, because Santana had promised her that she would stay, and had told her that she was only going to say goodbye to Miss Holliday and that she would be back soon.

_Goodbye's don't usually take this long, right?_ Brittany thought, sighing.

And even if it didn't seem like Santana was going to come back, Brittany decided that she would wait until the last possible moment before going home, just in case.

Fifteen minutes later, Brittany finally heard Santana's footsteps coming towards her. She even knew her footsteps by heart. Santana's feet made barely any noise to the untrained ear. She was kind of like a mouse.

A very intimidating silent secret assassin kind of mouse.

She didn't look up when Santana approached, even though Santana was clearly making an effort to make her footsteps louder to get Brittany's attention. She didn't trust herself not to bounce around and shout about how glad she was that Santana had stayed after all.

"Hi," Santana said, her voice low and urgent.

"Hey," Brittany said, looking up at her finally, her eyes widening in concern when she realized how nervous Santana looked.

"Can we talk?" Santana asked, then without waiting for Brittany to answer she continued on anyway.

"Brittany, I've been doing a lot of thinking, and I realized why I'm such a bitch all the time, and why I spend half my life being stoned out of my brain. I do those things, and I'm a bitch to you and everyone else around me because I'm angry. I'm angry because I have all of these feelings, feelings for you, feelings that I'm afraid of dealing with, because I'm afraid of dealing with the consequences. And Brittany, I can't go to an Indigo Girls concert. I just can't."

"I understand that"

Brittany was shocked. This was everything she'd ever wanted and it was happening.

_It was happening. _

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" Santana asked.

Brittany shook her head. She had heard the words Santana was saying, and none of that stuff was really news to her, but at the same time she wasn't sure what Santana was trying to tell her. She had no idea what Santana wanted her to do.

"I'm saying that I want to be with you. Come with me? Please? We'll run away together. We'll get away from my mom, and this stupid town. And we'll get away from your mom and your sister. Screw them. Screw them all," Santana said fiercely.

"Santana," Brittany started, her voice shaking.

"Wait."

Santana dragged her into the empty choir room, "Wait. Don't say anything yet. Just listen. I want to tell you how I feel. Just listen."

"_You've been on my mind  
I grow fonder every day,  
Lose myself in time  
Just thinking of your face  
God only knows  
Why it's taken me so long  
To let my doubts go  
You're the only one that I want_

_I don't know why I'm scared, I've been here before_  
_Every feeling, every word, I've imagined it all,_  
_You never know if you never try_  
_To forgive your past and simply be mine_

_I dare you to let me be your, your one and only_  
_Promise I'm worthy to hold in your arms_  
_So come on and give me a chance_  
_To prove that I'm the one who can_  
_Walk that mile until the end starts_

_I've been on your mind_  
_You hang on every word I say_  
_Lose yourself in time at the mention of my name_  
_Will I ever know how it feels to hold you close?_  
_And have you tell me whichever road I choose you'll go_

_I don't know why I'm scared 'cause I've been here before_  
_Every feeling, every word, I've imagined it all,_  
_You'll never know if you never try_  
_To forgive your past and simply be mine_

_I dare you to let me be your, your one and only_  
_I promise I'm worthy to hold in your arms_  
_So come on and give me a chance_  
_To prove that I'm the one who can_  
_Walk that mile until the end starts"_

When she had finished Santana looked so small and frightened, like it had taken everything out of her to sing that song to her.

"That was the most beautiful thing I've ever heard, Santana," Brittany told her, only sincerity showing from her blue eyes, the song having lulled her to a state of calm.  
"You really love me, don't you?" she asked. _So what if our relationship is sweet and salty all at once? Heaps of people like bacon flavored pancakes and don't care if they don't always make sense,_ Brittany thought.

Santana looked at her earnestly. "Yes. I love you…I love you. I want to be your one and only."

Brittany reached out and took Santana's hand and tried to wipe the confused look from her face as she tried to take this all in. Why now? What had made Santana change her mind? What had she talked about with that Holly Holliday lady? What was she going to do about Puck?

Santana mistook the confusion in her eyes as needing a reason why.

"I love you because… I'm not a nice person but you make me nicer, you teach me how to be nice."

Brittany exhaled in confusion. "You're the sweetest girl I know, San," she said squeezing her hand, "but that isn't a good reason to love me, that's a reason to love yourself."

Santana clarified herself. "I'm only sweet because you think I am. I was talking it over with Ms Holliday, she gave me some advice, she told me to hold on to anyone that makes me a better person, and that's you, Britt"

"Oh," Brittany said, finally understanding what she meant. The whole concept of her having an impact on Santana like that kind of blew her mind.

"You bring out my good side. You make me want to stretch my arms out and let fucking birds land on them. I want to keep you, because I've never met anyone else like you, and I would never ever find another person like you. You're so incredibly special, and you're one of very few people that make me not hate the world, and not feel like everything is doomed, like maybe not everything is lost. It's because you're so loving and considerate and selfless, and it's like this bright white light in my life. You've been such an integral part of my life, and you've always been there even though everyone else has disappeared. I want to keep you because I do believe that you do love me, I know how rare that is, and how idiotic I must be to risk losing it. I want to keep the part of me that you love. I want the chance to still be in your life, to prove to both of us that I can still be that person. The good bits at least. I know if I lose you I will never have that chance."

"Okay," Brittany breathed. "Okay."  
_This is happening, _she thought.

"Does this mean you'll come with me?"

"Just with you?" Brittany asked hopefully.

"Well, no, with Puck too," Santana said quickly. "I do love him too Brittany, and he can take care of us. Nobody will question us if he's there too. If he's there, we won't get all the talks and the looks."

"But, honey, if anybody were to ever make fun of us, you would either kick their ass or slash them with your vicious, vicious words."

"Yeah, I know, but I'm so afraid of what everyone will say behind my back. Still, I have to accept that I love you. I love you, and I need you, and this is the only way. Puck's totally cool with it. He wants me to have you, something that's just mine. And fuck being with your mom and your sister. They don't care about you."

_Wait, I love my mom and my sister too_, Brittany thought.

"And Lima. Fuck Lima. What could you really do here? I mean, there's nothing here for you. People don't accept people that are different here. You could do something much better with your life somewhere else!"

_What about where I want to work helping kids and teaching them to dance? _Brittany thought. _You didn't really ask me what I wanted to do. What if I get accepted into college here? I haven't applied to anywhere else, and I know most people have already got their letters, but maybe mine is still on its way. _

She voiced this aloud. "What about college, San? What if I get accepted?"

"Britts, I don't think you're gonna get in okay? Your grades were great, and you worked really hard, but I don't think that letter is coming. We'll move to a new city and we'll do what it takes to get you into college there. I'll help you."

Brittany looked troubled. _Maybe my letter got lost in the post_, she thought._ That's what must happen with all the really important future deciding letters. _

"Please say you love me back, please?"

Brittany brought her focus back to Santana. "Santana. Of course I do… I love you more than anything."

"But what?"

Brittany stared at the girl she loved and fantasized about going with her. Being with Santana was all she had ever wanted.

If she did end up getting into college here, she could just turn it down and apply to where Santana went later. She could call her mom and her sister every day, and as for the place where she wanted to work, well there would be other places.

But there wasn't another Santana.

She knew that the completely different lifestyle would be hard for her. She knew she'd get confused and disoriented for the first couple of months and be constantly lost and never know where anything was, or even which way was up or down. She knew that Santana would be the one to suffer and have to carry her through it, and she would hate to put Santana through that.

"My head gets really messy when things change, San," Brittany told her.

"I don't care," Santana said back instantly.

_She doesn't care!_ Brittany thought joyfully, picturing them playing house together… for good. Just the two of them, and wait, Puck too.

Brittany's face fell.

"What?" Santana asked, her expression hardening. "Is there someone else. Is it Artie? Is this about him?"

"No… no of course not!"

"You have someone else in mind don't you? Fucking wheels, I should have cut his…"

"It's not that I have someone else, it's that you have someone else!" Brittany blurted out, interrupting her. "Be brave Santana. Let's do this together. Let's do it without Puck. Let's do this for real. It will be okay, I promise. I'll go with you, and we'll find a place. A place that's just for us. Choose me!"

Santana shook her head.

"Choose me!" Brittany almost shouted.

She knew that in her heart she desperately wanted to follow her, but yet it was also her heart holding her back. She knew that if she dived headfirst into this thing with Santana now, then that would be it, she would never be able to leave her, even if she wasn't happy. Brittany knew that she loved Santana so much that she would probably put up with Puck just to be with her.

Santana looked at her feet and started twisting her hands together. It was a total role reversal because she was now doing all of Brittany's nervous habits.

Brittany frowned. She guessed that this would work the way it always had; Puck would get Santana in public, and Brittany would get Santana in private.

But what if Brittany didn't want Santana only part time? Maybe it would be okay temporarily, but not forever. What if agreeing to part time now, meant that she would be accepting that it would always be this way?

Sharing Santana with Puck had always felt kind of like being kept in a box, and only sometimes getting taken out to see the light. It felt like she was in a box being kept 'in the closet.' Brittany felt like she finally understood the meaning of that phrase.

She knew she couldn't resign herself to that. Especially not for forever.

"You're not offering for me to be your one and only, Santana, you're just asking to be mine. That's not fair. You make me feel like I'm only half a person when you say that I can only have half of you. It's because I'm… autistic. Isn't it? That's why you need him around too. Even though I do all those good things you said before?"

"No," Santana said quickly, "I love you anyway. I want you to be with me."

"But I'm still not enough?"

Santana was silent for a moment.

"I do love Puck. And… I guess I could be happy with just him, but I still want you." she said finally. "I want you to be with me more than anything."

Brittany's heart broke into a million pieces hearing that, but she didn't know why. She suspected that Santana meant it to sound comforting, but it just wasn't.

She didn't understand why she wasn't enough all by herself to really be Santana's one and only.

A million guesses ran through her mind. She knew herself well enough now to know that she was kind of unreliable.

Puck would be better than her at supporting Santana, and at keeping a job.

Brittany knew that someone like herself who could barely remember to put her uniform on each morning facing forwards, would struggle with the responsibilities of a job.

Puck had connections that she didn't have as well. Brittany knew he was always getting Santana free stuff from his friends, which sometimes included free stuff that they could smoke. He would probably find a way to get her a good apartment too. And, he could drive.

Brittany knew that she lived in a small world. She lived in a fictitious and imaginative land where people slid down rainbows and got rides from unicorns, and ate Pixy Stix all day. She reigned as president there, but only because most of the time there was nobody there but herself. Her heart stopping still, Brittany realized without a shadow of a doubt that Santana's world was bigger, different. She lived in the real world. Maybe that was it.

Brittany's self loathing intensified. She balled up part of her shirt up in her fists, gripping it as tightly as she could, then she stopped and unclenched her fists slowly looking down at them.

She wouldn't believe it. She wouldn't let anyone treat her like she was only worth half their love and their time, even if it was Santana.

She had to believe that she was good enough to have what she wanted.

Brittany knew that she had flaws, but it was Santana that had tried for as long as she could remember to help her believe that she deserved all the love in the world in spite of them.

If Brittany didn't believe it now, then all that time and effort and faith on Santana's part would be for nothing, and if Santana didn't realize that now, then maybe she would one day, and then she would regret this.

Santana had tried to teach her to believe she was kind and smart and wonderful, and that she deserved the world.

So to honor that, Brittany had to _only_ accept the love that she truly deserved.

And right now, it wasn't being offered to her.

It broke her heart, but she had to tell Santana no.

She looked at the girl standing in front of her that she loved more than anything in the world and felt her insides clench together.

Brittany knew that she needed to be more independent, but maybe Santana wasn't ready either. Brittany hadn't expected this huge gesture. The most she'd hoped for was for Santana to tell her that for all these years she had always meant something to her, and that for the whole time she had seen being with Brittany as being in a real relationship.

Brittany knew Santana could go back on this who 'lets run away together thing' and the emotion behind it any second. It was too new. They didn't have a plan, and Santana was famous for her rash decisions.

_She says she wants to be with me, but she hasn't really thought it through enough to know how_, Brittany thought. _She's sharing her feelings, but she doesn't yet know what things in her life have to change, or how to break free from her fears. _

_She's not ready. _

_And I'm not ready either, Brittany _realized_. Maybe if I wait a little longer I can prove to her that I can do everything Puck can do and more. And, I can prove it to myself._

Brittany squeezed Santana's hand, gently playing with her fingers. "I love you Santana, but I don't think either of us are ready for what you're asking for."

Santana's eyes narrowed, full of hurt. She tore her hands away roughly.  
"You don't love me, Brittany," she spat back at her, "If you did then you'd come with me. I tried to be fluid, but all you are is stuck."

Brittany instantly wanted to take it all back and say 'I'm coming with you!' but it was pure self preservation that stopped her. She knew it wasn't right.

"Santana… I-" She really did love Santana. She wasn't going to let her leave without making sure she really knew that.

Santana didn't give her that chance.

"Don't," she said and pushed back from the wall that she was leaning against, and took a few shaky steps away from Brittany, biting her lip as if to keep from crying.

They stared at each other for seconds that felt like hours. Brittany shuffled back, not sure what to do. At the movement, Santana seemed to wake up, then stiffened and ran back over to her, taking Brittany's face between her hands.

"Wait… just wait … just hold on… I'll come back for you," Santana said kissing her roughly, and rubbing her thumb over Brittany's face, from her cheekbones to her jaw. "I will Britt. Goddammit I will. I won't lose you."

Then she was gone.

The picture that Brittany had put away so carefully between the pages of her history book fell down to the ground, and Brittany stared at her own smiling face at thirteen years old, her eyes innocent and wide with wonder at the world, and full of expectations and promises for the future.

"_That one, Britts, is just how you look at me"_

* * *

**Yeah, that was pretty horrible wasn't it?**

**I take this moment to remind everyone that I'm not leaving here without writing a happy ending.**

**Sometimes I think that I just should have gone with her then, because in spite of the confusion, she's my girlfriend, which meant I had made a commitment to be by her side no matter what.**

**But then I got all self righteous and tried to stand up for myself, and for what I wanted.**

**I may never know which was the right choice.**

**There was always the danger that if I had gone with her then, I might not have had a chance to grow by myself and try to find my own independence.**

**Back then, I hadn't learned half the ways I have now for coping with my disorder, and I can honestly say that I had to learn those things on my own.**

**Also, she wasn't ready to come out. She didn't want to lose me, but she wasn't ready to stop hiding behind Puck.**

**At the time I thought that if I let her get comfortable with having the both of us there, me in private, him in public, then she might never try to push beyond that because she already would have had everything she wanted.**

**When it came down to it, what Santana wanted most was an escape from her old life, and most of the people in it – especially her family.**

**She considered Puck to be the way out, and that made him the key to her happiness.**

**She didn't think I could rescue her from her old life, and she was probably right, because although I always tried hard, I don't think I could have supported her the way she needed, and she couldn't have supported us both by herself in a new city. I needed more time to learn how to be less dependent, and we didn't have that time.**

**Just like in the vaguely similar scene on the show from the episode "Sexy," there _was_ a guy between us, but it wasn't from my side.**

**I think if she'd really offered that we could both be _each other's_ 'one and only's' and she'd chosen just me, then I would have got on that plane with her so fast… for better or for worse, no matter the issues, no matter the consequences.**

**But even though I didn't, that doesn't mean the story is over.**

* * *

**3 trillion things:**

**1. The Hello Kitty toaster still works, and I still 'eat pussy' every morning.**

**2. I would sell my soul for more Timon and Pumba bug popsicles… they had little gummy bugs in them and Santana and I would always make sure we got the same amount of the bugs each when we shared one.**

**3. I caught Santana singing 'Frosty the Snowman' while she was putting up the Christmas tree once. She stopped when I saw her, but I kept going for her.**

**4. I'm still sorry about wrecking the snowmen. I'm also sorry that Santana never got over her dislike of sand and beaches because I just love them. And I also ship Britt-sotla and Mentlana-tana. **

**5. The conversation where I compared Santana to the Wizard of Oz scarecrow is 100% true, and she actually still remembered it a few years later (she never usually remembers things like that).**

**6. The song I was singing in my head to her is called "Goodbye to you" by Michelle Branch /watch?v=JeK_aAWjmfw**

**7. There is a section of about 200 words in this chapter that Santana technically 'wrote herself.' This one speech of hers I put in without editing it or paraphrasing it at all. I'll give you a hint which part it is, it contains the words 'light' 'doomed' and 'disappeared' … and also 'fucking' but that last one doesn't tell you much because she's pretty fond of using that word.  
****It's a beautiful speech from her though, and I wanted it left intact.**

**8. The song I had Santana sing to Brittany is called "One and Only" by Adele /watch?v=wA4ppvp2IzY**

**Of course Santana didn't really sing that to me, but the lyrics do remind me of that conversation. Besides, Naya Rivera would totally nail that song.**

**9. I held off on writing this chapter, because I was really enjoying reliving high school, and holding on to the sixteenth… and seventeenth and eighteenth years of my life with her. And, I was trying to prolong it from being 'over again'. But I know I can't live in the past forever.**

**Next up, the college years. :)**


	22. From Me To You

**Miara848 - Your question is a good one :) and there's kind of a long complex story behind it that I'm totally about to sit down and tell you.  
****The first episode of Glee that I actually watched was 'Pot O' Gold' in Season 3. I kind of live under a rock and forget the TV even exists half the time, so I tend to miss a lot.  
****I didn't even see that episode when it aired, it was a rerun, and somebody else was flicking through channels. I saw Brittana at Breadstix on a date and I was like "WTFWhothehellarethey!?" to my friend and was then officially glued to the screen.  
****I had actually spent the day (and some weeks… months before it) trying to figure out who I could talk about Santana with, because I knew that I needed to talk to someone – and I didn't have anyone in my life who would listen to the story and be non-biased. I didn't want the listener to take to my side. My friends in real life tend to just not want to hear about her, or alternatively they don't****let me mention her without jumping in and saying something mean, and I hate that. **

**I was initially just looking for one person to tell it to, and because I knew that talking to people in my real life wasn't gonna work out, I figured that I had to extend my search to the internet. I wrote the story briefly in about 20k (which at the time looked to me like the longest thing ever) and then I thought that was it. I half-considered posting it in those forums where you talk to people and get life advice, but I looked at one and decided it wasn't right. I didn't think that they would listen to me anyway. I also thought about telling a therapist, but I knew I didn't really want one. I just wanted to tell a friend.**  
**Then, back to seeing that season 3 episode, by the end of it I was convinced that it was practically her and me on the screen, and it felt like some kind of divine intervention or something, and I wondered how I could be smart and use it to my advantage.**  
**My thoughts went kind of like: _They're us, but they're on TV. TV means they probably have a couple of fans. If these fans like Brittana, then they might like us too, and maybe I can find one really nice one who might like both of us and want to hear our story._**

**So when the episode finished I went online, hoping to maybe catch one wild Brittana fan in the long grass, and I found… an entire population of them. I didn't really know much about the extent of fandoms before this, because like I said, I live under a rock.**  
**But I learned fast.**  
**Then I remembered that my friend "Rachel" was always posting stories on a site online called 'Fanfiction.' It clicked. I printed out my original 20k that I'd written, and cut it up into sections and decided that each section would be its own chapter, and I'd use Brittana as my voice. I also decided that I would spend all my free time in the next month or so watching that Glee show with an eagle eye and becoming an expert on it so I could fit in with the Glee fandom.**

**Then, I finally went to bed. It was a long day. :p No, wait, first I went to this site and signed up as "Rainmanwithboobs" as a big fuck you to Finn, 'cause I was pretty sure in that episode he called Brittany that as an insult, so in retaliation I made it my user name, to inform him that there was nothing wrong with being a Rain man, with (or without) boobs. :P**  
**And the rest is history...**  
**Anyway *hugs* to you, and sorry for going on forever! :)**

**heybrittbritt - Hola :) And I'm sending you hugs right back**  
**I have a diary where I write nice things my readers tell me, and I just pulled it out and wrote "big, complicated and yet so precious and beautiful" in bubble writing with stars from you. I'm glad to meet you, and thank you for taking the time to talk to me. :)**

**Flor – :) I think that you and your crusade to do something big to help kids with autism makes you a really inspiring person, and I have no doubt that you will help many 'blue roses' someday, or maybe even soon.**  
**I know you're on chapter 2 right now, and it might take you a while to get here, but I just wanted to say that I'd love to help you with your project, and thank you for understanding that I have to stay anonymous. FFN censored the link to your Tumblr though (it always does that) and to be honest I don't know how to use Tumblr or anything about making informative software :P But I'd be happy to answer any questions that I can…**  
**Thanks for reading, and for being you. :)**

**iclingtoo - Thank you so much :)**

**Taeblancaxoxo - You are definitely still a unicorn! As far as I'm concerned it's a lifelong kind of membership. I'm really glad to see you back, and thank you for taking the time to review even with all that homework and for your insight and sweet comments.**

**daydreamernightdoer -:) You mentioned feeling like a 7 year old writing a letter to your favorite author, which reminds me of the letter I sent at that age to my favorite author at the time, which happened to be Roald Dahl. And, not only did I obnoxiously inform him to rewrite Charlie and the Chocolate factory so that I could be in it, I also told him "what you have so far is good, but there needs to be more talk about kids eating candy" (what was I thinking?). **  
**Plus, I was also cleverly writing to, and ordering around a dead guy.**  
**Trust me your reviewing skills are a million miles superior, and plenty good enough. :) And, it really means a lot to me that I can touch someone who hasn't been through the same things, and thank you so much for being open enough to feel it all with me.**

**Bmcbrid – I know I just messaged you before, but I wanted to say here that your little cousin is so lucky to have you! I bet he is like me and just wants to be understood, so the fact that you can understand him, and that you care for him would mean a lot. You were also another person who said that Brittany deserves more than settling for only getting half of Santana, so thank you for helping me believe that... and also, Unicorns, Unite. :)**

**Canine Warrior – I'm sorry for almost making you cry, but thank you. :)**  
**Ps. I'm all for you protecting the canine species. Particularly the Raccoon dog, Red wolf, coyote…. and the Fennec fox… and even the Crab-Eating Zorro. :p**

**luvmeh8meucan'tchangeme - Guess what? I checked out your story. :) I have this rule against reading any of other people's Brittana fics until I'm finished mine, but I have no such rule against Spashley fics. :p**  
**This is my first encounter with Spashley, I've never actually seen their show.**  
**Anyway, I think you're doing great! There's some really cute and funny parts and I relate to Ashley a lot, and just like her I spend a lot of time drawing and folding paper. Also, my "Santana's" nickname for me is Sunshine…**  
**I'm glad to have inspired you, and I agree that there are so many misconceptions out there about Asperger's. I really hope you stick around, and I'm looking forward to reading more of what you write too.**

**luceroadorada – You're very welcome. :)**

**mdchap01 - First of all, I'm so glad you were able to find the strength to the road to recovery. There's a little girl in my life with cerebral palsy that I love very much, and she's smart, but not a lot of people understand her, and she likes to swim because she can move faster in the water. :) I'm not sure if seizures are common, but she has them a lot and they are really scary, but she's brave, and I bet you are too. Thank you so much for reading.**

**wkgreen – Thank you for your support and sorry for the wait! :)**

**broken-timemachine - I know I've just written you a pm, but I realized I hadn't told you that I liked your new name and thanked you for you supporting the decision I made in the last chapter so I thought I'd do that here. :)**

**Puff614- Thank you so much for what you said because it was particularly your comment that helped me let go of a lot of guilt that I'd had over the decision I made to not follow her (and Puck) when we graduated. You're very right about Brittany having a tendency to undervalue herself, because I've been struggling with that for most of my life and it's helped me a lot to see now that the decision I made then, wasn't just about not thinking about consequences and just being arrogant or stupid. The choice itself was more about the turning point between going with her and giving in to being undervalued, or fighting for what I deserved, and believing that I deserved more. And I chose to fight, but I still felt guilty about it for the longest time, so thank you so much for being someone who helped me let go of that, because in a way it really does change my life. :) I missed you too, and I'm so glad your horse is okay now! *hugs***

**xannaxmurderx – I'm glad I was able to make your day better, and you're totally welcome. :)**

**just. a. dreamer. named. jay – Thank you :) and I hope you like this next one.**

**Ascoeur – !I hope I didn't actually kill you with the wait because then I would be a very sad panda, but as always, thank you for brightening my day with your enthusiasm :)**

**cord – Thank you :) and I think Brittany could still be happy in or near Lima because she doesn't mind small towns, but I agree she needs to get into a good school!**

**Ashley – It's great to hear from you, and you're welcome, and I really hope you like the next part. :)**

**MisAtentionSpan - Thank you :) No, Santana doesn't know about Brittana. She doesn't like Glee, she would much rather watch Dexter, Family Guy, NCIS, House, or that show where that guy swears a lot at people for having messy kitchens. I think when it comes down to it, I love Santana so much that I would protect her with my life, and I know that I wouldn't have done this story if it wasn't an important thing to do, or if it were going to cause more harm than good. I've also gone to a lot of trouble to stay anonymous, and that has been mostly for her benefit.**  
**She's said to me so many times that she feels alone in the world, like nobody really understands what she's been through and that all the people around her 'just don't get it.' Through writing this, i've had a lot of people contact me, proving her otherwise, and giving her the sympathy and understanding that she doesn't get in real life, because she can come off as 'just a bitch' which alienates her from making friends and getting the support she needs.**  
**I'm holding a diary in my hands right now that i've made for her (I have one of my own for me too). And, in it i've written the words from people here. Every time someone told me they saw her as amazing or brave, I wrote it down, along with the many, many times that people said they relate to her. The front cover says "You are not alone." Maybe she's not ready to read it now, but I know how much this diary would be worth to her, so I have to believe that what i'm doing is worthwhile.**

**And to all- just a warning on this one: one of the characters goes though depression, so if that triggers you just be warned. **

* * *

**Chapter 22 – From Me To You**

**Brittany S Pierce, Present**

_Ten lies that they told me in high school._

1. "You're really stupid."

2. "Just get accepted into a good college, then your worries for your future are over."

3. "Unless you can figure out your algebra homework, you'll never succeed in life."

4. "You can come back to your old teachers anytime to chat, and we'll help you."

5. "We just want you to be yourself, well, within reason. You know that homosexuality is a sin right?"

6. "High school relationships don't mean anything in the real world."

7. "Teenagers don't know real love."

8. "You're just a kid, you'll get over Santana the minute you walk out of that place."

9. "It's all just a phase."

10. "I think you're ready for the real world."

_One truth that I found out all by myself. _

You never know how addicted you are to something, or to _someone_, until it isn't there anymore.

* * *

**Brittany S. Pierce, age 18 - 19**

1- _Distraction_

"What are you doing now, Britt?" Kurt asked, doing a double take as he came into the living room and saw the blonde waving her arms around energetically at his TV.

"I'm conducting a symphony," Brittany told him. "Thank you for inviting me over again, I really didn't want to spend the day at home by myself. Whenever I go into my room, I always feel like she should be there too, and it feels wrong."

"Hang on, hold up, you're conducting a… what now?" Kurt asked, bewildered. His strange day with Brittany was getting stranger by the minute. Ever since Santana had left, she just really hadn't been herself. _No wait, that's a lie,_ Kurt thought. _She's still herself, only she's been ... more extreme. _

"Haven't you always wanted to conduct your own orchestra? I figure I need to practice right now just in case some maestro somewhere drops dead on the spot, because what if I'm the only one available to fill in? Luckily there are TV channels set up for this kind of thing 24/7."

"Okay, Britt, but before this I'm pretty sure I heard you practicing your commentating on the horse racing," Kurt said gently, trying to bring some order and sense back in to the room. Maybe they could sit down together and enjoy some tea. Or Jello. He was prepared to make Jello, if it would only get her to sit down and stop being such a walking hurricane.

"You know, I could be the next big thing," Brittany muttered dropping her hands from their conductor's position back down to rest at her sides. The TV violinists didn't seem to need her help much to keep playing, and Kurt was staring at her. He stared at her like that a lot lately.

Kurt guided her to a chair. "And, before the horse racing, you spent a good part of the morning making exactly one hundred and twelve tiny cupcakes for some random bake sale that you found in the ads space in the newspaper."

Brittany looked longingly at the plates covered over with a cloth in the kitchen.

Kurt frowned. "Well, at least I think it was one hundred and twelve. It was, unless I missed you pilfering a few more than the ones I already counted you sneaking off with," he continued. "You're getting kind of a reputation as a cookie and cupcake thief you know."

_One hundred and fifteen,_ Brittany thought triumphantly. _You missed the three I hid in my hat for safekeeping._

"And, before that I'm pretty sure I saw you building something that looked kind of like a time machine. And long before _that _in the early morning, you organized every book in my house."

Brittany shrugged. "You had Little Women right beside The Shining. Something had to be done."

"First you stacked them up like a huge tower, and then you put them away in alphabetical order. Then you switched to lining them up on the floor by the year they were published. And _then_ you turned to organizing them by the color of their spines, turning my bookshelf in to a giant rainbow. And _then_ you were finally done with my books and you started on a daisy chain. And after _that_, you turned my living room into a human-sized Pac-man game, and I'm really not sure how I'm going to navigate my way through that huge maze when I need to get out through my front door," Kurt said, trying again to get her to see reason.

"You could just follow the pac-dots?" Brittany advised him.

Kurt waved his hand at her in frustration. "_Then_ you counted how many grapes you could fit in your mouth, and _then_ you made peanut butter s'mores, and _then_ you chased ants through my house watching them to see where they went, and later on you actually started digging for gold in my backyard. Seriously, do you not see where I'm going with all this Britt?" he asked. "Should I remind you of what you did yesterday?"

"Well, at least I found out that ant life in particular is very interesting," Brittany told him, shrugging again and turning away. "They can carry things that are like fifty times the size of their own weight. I was hoping I could get a whole bunch together and they could carry my cat around. And then I was hoping that the one I was following would take me to see their ant queen and together we could rule the nest. And maybe my cat could be king."

_You'd need all the ants in America to even come close to carrying your fat cat,_ Kurt thought, but then he paused, looking at her closely. "I know you miss her okay? But wearing yourself out with doing anything that you can possibly think of, just isn't going to help."

"It helps me," Brittany said quietly, looking at her feet. "If I keep myself busy, then sometimes I can even go a whole minute without thinking about her. Do you think I could –"

"No!" Kurt interrupted. "Whatever it is, just no. No more cooking or organizing or conducting or building or commentating. Just… just sit down for a little bit, and breathe."

Brittany met his eyes. "I was just going to ask for a hug," she mumbled.

Kurt exhaled the breath he was holding out slowly. "Oh. Okay, sorry."

He moved forward and put his arms around her slowly like she was a wild thing, about to fly away any second. She stayed still.

_Wow_, Kurt thought surprised, feeling her hands come up and cling to his shirt. She must really be feeling Santana's absence.

"The city is colder without her in it," Brittany whispered into his shoulder. "It feels kind of like it would feel if your house was broken and there was a brick missing, and all the cold air outside was getting in. There's a hole in our city, Kurt," she told him.

He couldn't help but to feel sorry for her. "When did you last talk to her?"

"Last night." She finally broke free of the hug and started pacing around the room, as if she was trying to burn a hole in the carpet. "She said that she's okay, and she was using her smiley voice when I tried to hug the phone, but for the rest of the call she just sounded sad."

"The distance is going to be hard," Kurt said sympathetically.

"It wasn't so bad when I could feel her smiling," Brittany said, her forehead wrinkling up. "The bad part was that she was kind of distant, and that she hung up earlier than she had to. It wasn't like our usual midnight calls to each other."

"Oh?" Kurt asked.

Brittany grinned. "Sometimes after school if the parental units were being a pain and wouldn't let us out, we'd just call each other until we had to go to sleep." Her smile faded. "But it was like this time I couldn't reach her through the phone like I could before."

"It's an adjustment, Britt. It might take time," Kurt suggested. "And, speaking of um, other potential adjustments"  
He awkwardly pulling an envelope out of his pocket.

_Please let her get in_, he thought. _Maybe this will stop her from trashing the rest of my house, and better yet give her something to focus on. _

Brittany scrunched up her nose. "What's that?"

Kurt put his hand on her arm gently. "I applied to a couple of colleges for you, just in case you didn't get into the one you chose that's close by. I figured you would just focus on getting into Ohio State University in Lima and forget the rest, because that's kind of what you do."  
_Kind of like how you focus on Santana and forget the rest of the world exists_, Kurt thought.

Brittany smiled at him, and took the letter. "You really did that for me?"

"Yep, and for this particular school when I wrote your entrance essay I really talked up all your special talents, and I worked the 'I'm unique' angle."  
_Because you sure are that,_ Kurt thought, surveying his Pac-man maze of a living room.

"My uniqueness?" Brittany asked her voice wavering.  
_He said that I have Asperger's? I didn't know that he knew, and I definitely don't want this school knowing that about me_, she thought.

"Yep, I've never been able to figure out what it is exactly that makes you so different from the rest of us, but you don't have to know why, to work it," Kurt said striking a pose.

Brittany relaxed, then spotted the name of the university on the front. "Oh," she said disappointed, "you know this is a really, really good school. My grades weren't good enough for here. Miss Pillsbury said so."

"Yeah, well, word on the street is that this campus received some funding for their psychology program, so they've just upgraded the whole thing and built bigger rooms and hired more teachers, so they are letting twice as many people in to fill the new space."

"So?"

"Well, like I just said, it takes a bit of time for all new things to take off, so I'm pretty sure their expectations of their new applicants are lower this year, and that's because they need more people."

"Seat fillers," Brittany mumbled. "I'm not going to get in, Kurt. Maybe I'm kind of smart, but I'm not _that_ smart. Let me get back to those peanut butter s'mores."

"Open it," Kurt urged. "Come on, I was there when Miss Pillsbury handed you the 'So you wanna help people but can't without a college degree' pamphlet. If you want to get qualified enough to help make all the sad kids in our city happier with your Britt magic and your song and dance routines, then we're gonna have to start ripping open a lot of these envelopes until one of them tells us what we want to hear."

Brittany went to tear it open, but before she was even a quarter of the way done, she suddenly froze with her hand midair, a wave of pain coming across her face.

Kurt understood. "Yeah you didn't think of her for nearly five minutes that time," he realized, praising her.

Brittany shrugged the pain away, and turned her focus back to the envelope_. Getting an education and getting smarter is what I need to be with Santana_, Brittany thought, determinedly ripping open the envelope and pulling out he contents, her eyes scanning the page.

"Well?" Kurt asked excitedly.

Brittany's jaw dropped. "I got in?" It was phrased as a question.

Kurt pulled it from her trembling fingertips. "Yeah you did!" he exclaimed wildly.

"No way," Brittany said, pulling the letter closer to her eyes. "This is like a joke… or it's really an invitation to join a chicken farm, right? I can't really be going to college. No way!"

"It's real! Get used to it, Britt!" he said crossing over to a kitchen cabinet and pulling out a giant party popper. He aimed it and roughly twisted the cell, and as it exploded, streamers and confetti rained on Brittany.

She gaped at him, dumbfounded.

"A diva is always prepared for anything," he said, shrugging as she shook the confetti out of her hair. "You better go pack your bags."

* * *

**From Brittany **

**To Santana **

**Subject: Miracles happen. **

Guess what? I'm gonna be a college girl. Can you believe it?

… Yeah I couldn't either!

I wish I could have told you in person but I guess you haven't had time to call me back yet, and I'm sending you this email because I couldn't wait another minute to tell you.

How is law school? You have to tell me everything, I don't want to miss a thing!

Can you give me your new address? I've got a big box of s'mores and cupcakes to send you. The cupcakes were supposed to be for a bake sale, but I totally stole some to give to you. They'll be okay in the mail right? I can put a pillow in so they don't get squished.

OMG I still have to say goodbye to my cat!

Don't worry San, I know we'll be together soon. But while we're waiting I guess I'll be being the new girl on campus and studying super hard… just like you. I'm glad we're doing the same thing now, just in different places. It makes me feel so much closer to you to know that we're doing the same stuff.

I love you, honey!

* * *

**From Santana **

**To Brittany **

**Subject: re:Miracles happen. **

Congratu-fucking-lations!

Hey, who first told you that you were a genius?

I'm so proud of you! Kick ass, baby girl.

Law school is great. So far they're pretty much grading me for arguing with people, and like I really need any encouragement to do that. But there's a lot of reading as well, which is kind of boring.

And, there are like vending machines around every corner, you'd be going nuts at the sight of all the constant candy temptations.

I'll give you my address, but I think Puck and I are going to move around a lot. We've got a place 5 minutes away from my campus right now though.

I love you too.

* * *

2- _Promises_

"Kurt, I didn't really get in fair and square you know. My grades weren't good enough. They only picked me to fill up more seats. You know, I can probably fill up four seats in all of my classes if I eat more Cheetos and sit sideways so my feet take up lots of room. That's all they want me to do."

"Hush, Britt," Kurt told her, dragging her luggage over a hole in the sidewalk and cursing. "You're here just like everyone else, and you're gonna be learning the same stuff and taking the same exams. Who cares about how you got in?"

"I do," Brittany told him, struggling under the weight of the rest of her luggage. "You aren't supposed to do something that you aren't smart enough to do. That's logic."

"Bullshit," Kurt swore, losing patience with her. "Let me put it this way to you. This is a really good school, and everyone wants to get in, right?"

"Right," Brittany agreed lowering her head and looking like she was about to run in the opposite direction.

"So, it's not always that some people don't deserve a place or can't handle the work, its about the fact that places are limited and they can only take a few, so they are usually overly picky. You'll be just fine, and I'm gonna see you at the finish line," he joked in singsong.

"You really think I can do this?" Brittany asked hopefully.

"Definitely," he told her, giving her a little push. "Now go and meet your roommate."

"I wish you could be my roommate," Brittany told him pushing open the door. "That fashion and design school better appreciate you."

"No one's here," Kurt said interrupting her, and dumping her bags on the vacant bed. "Wow, there's only two beds, but I swear by the looks of all this stuff that at least _five_ people live here, which is funny because administration said just one."  
He forced his way through the piles of clothes and shoes on the floor and side-eyed the five coffee mugs on the table.

"Maybe she's homeless," Brittany said. "Well, except for her home here. Maybe she needs to bring all of the stuff that she owns."

Kurt looked around the room at all the opened bags and DVD's, and then spotted something above one of the beds. "Hey, well whoever she is, she has great taste. Look at that Beatles poster!"  
He pointed to the super-sized Abbey Road poster featured prominently on the wall, and he started humming 'All you need is love' as he picked up a few fallen chairs.  
_This place looks like a bomb hit it_, he thought. He was used to mess after having Brittany's wild ideas and projects explode all over his house so much lately, but this was something else.

"I think I'm lost already," Brittany muttered, peeking out the window and wondering how she was ever going to find her way around this enormous campus, "i'm lost and I haven't even left the room."

"Look Britt," Kurt told her elbowing a pair of shoes off a table, "your Hello Kitty toaster goes here. You're home."

"You're right, that's all I need," Brittany said smiling at him. "All I need is toast," she sung in the same tune he was singing before.

Kurt smiled back. "There's only a little space left in your closet, so you might have to talk to your roommate about moving some of her stuff out. Your five carefully selected stuff animals can sit on your bed, and feel honored that they made it through the grueling elimination rounds and beat out the other hundred or so hopefuls that you wanted to take with you. That entire box of sticky notes that your mom gave you can go um… under your bed."

"I'm so not going to unpack _everything_," Brittany announced brightly. "It would be so silly, right? Santana could show up at any moment without Puck and hold out her arms, and then I'd only have to pack everything up again, and I wouldn't want to waste a second of our new life packing, you know?"

Kurt looked at her sadly. "I'm sorry that she's not here," he said gently.

"She couldn't get away," Brittany told him. "She said good luck to me last night, and so did my mom and my sister. Katie still can't believe I'm actually doing this."

"Yeah, well, now you're here, and you're going to be great," he promised her, "and I feel pretty positive about this now that I see that your roommate, or maybe _menagerie_ of roommates, is a Beatles fan. I mean, how bad could she be? You're in safe hands."

He stood up and hugged her tightly, feeling her return the hug as if her life depended on it. "Bye Britt. I'll come visit you again and see how you're doing as soon as I can."

He made it out the door, and he almost made it to the parking lot before he heard footsteps echoing on the pavement behind him. He stopped.

"Kurt wait!" Brittany called out, puffing.

He looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to catch up. He'd somehow known that this was coming. She'd looked so frightened the moment he said he was leaving.

When she reached him, her body slackened and she leaned forward slightly, as if she hadn't planned this far ahead. Her hands began to twist around themselves agitatedly in a way that he hadn't seen her do in what seemed like a long time. He reached out and pulled one of her hands towards him, stilling her movements and prying open her fingers, urging her to relax.

"I just don't know if I can do this without her," Brittany said finally. "She's not here and I've never done anything without her. I've never had to. I've never even tried," she rambled.  
"I miss her so much. I keep feeling like this is a dream and I'll wake up back in her room and I'll see both our suitcases packed up next to each other, and feel her hand in mine."

Kurt didn't know what to say. He wasn't sure if there was anything that could be said that would comfort her right now. He couldn't lie and tell her that she'd be fine without Santana, and he couldn't tell her that it would be easy trying to find her independence. Shuffling on his feet, he sensed the importance of this moment. Brittany felt like a loose cannon that he was trying to contain. _Contain, and then pack back in that messy dorm room with a book in her hands and pray she focuses and sticks with it_, he thought.

"She said to me once that she'd let me paint our door pink if we lived somewhere together. And she _really_ hates pink," Brittany said, distractedly.

There was a silence.

"It's just, I thought that was really nice of her," Brittany explained to him, wistfully, figuring the silence was because he didn't get it.

"Britt, you're not a quitter," he said at last. It wasn't a lie. It was the one thing about her that he had always been sure of. "So don't quit. Get this degree, and prove to everyone that they were wrong about you."

Brittany eyes widened, and she gripped at his hand, years of memories flashing through her mind.

"Yeah," Kurt continued, seeing the recognition in her eyes. "Do it, and laugh in the face of the people who have ever called you stupid. Prove to this school that you were meant to be here, even if your scores were a little bit lower. Prove them all wrong and no matter what, don't quit."

Brittany shuffled on her feet.

"Promise me," he urged.

"I promise, Kurt," Brittany said, trying to stop her voice from trembling.

"And you should promise Santana too. I know she's not here right now, but deep down that girl wants you to succeed, and she wants to see that you can do things without her."

Brittany looked into the sky as if Santana was somehow there. "I promise you, Santana," she whispered.

"And promise yourself," he said. "Don't just do it for us. Do it for you."

"Okay," Brittany nodded. "Never quit," she repeated.

"Never," he echoed, accepting her pinkie and shaking on it.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Brittany was opening one of her textbooks to Chapter One and flopping down on her bed. She winced for the fifth time in ten minutes, as one of the girls that seemed to have permanently taken up residence outside her dorm room let out another loud laugh. It was so much quieter in her old room. She hoped that the girls would move on soon.

"Cognition" she read out. _What the hell is that? It sounds like a spaceship or machine of some kind, you know like cogs plus ignition_, she thought._  
_

She read on. "Cognition is mental processes."  
_Ohh_, Brittany thought. _Maybe they are trying to say that the mind is a little bit like a machine. I'm off to a good start for sure. _

She yawned. The rest of the thick textbook seemed so daunting, and it was super heavy where she was leaning it on her stomach. "Never quit," she reminded herself.

Suddenly the group of noisy girls burst in the room. One of them breezed past Brittany, and sat on the counter top The second girl had the brightest red hair that Brittany had ever seen, and she elbowed her way past the rest and leaned down close to Brittany's face.

"Watch me crank it, watch me roll. Watch me crank dat, Soulja Boy. Then Superman dat oh!" she sung.

Brittany tried to move away politely. _Too loud_, her mind screamed, but she took a deep breath and tried to ignore it.

"Hey," another girl said from behind her. Her hair was almost white but her eyebrows were a dark black. Brittany immediately thought that she was kind of unique and pretty. "Hey," the girl said again in a deep raspy voice. "I'm Antonia, your roommate, and these are my bitches, Nessa, Charlie, Monroe and Nat Nat."

"Hi Antonia, and hello bitches! I'm Brittany and it's good to meet you!" Brittany exclaimed excitedly, the mystery of the lost roommate now solved. "I like your poster," she told her pointing to Abbey Road. She put out her hand for Antonia to shake.

"Ugh," Antonia said already offended, and brushing her away. "Are you high? That's not my poster."  
She ripped the Beatles poster down and tore it to pieces. "The girl here before us left that. She was a fucking hipster."

Brittany cringed. She knew that Kurt would cry if he saw this. She could hear him in her head right now saying that destroying anything Beatles related is considered unforgivable sacrilege. _Whatever that means, _she thought.

She stared at Antonia, watching her cross over to the other side of the room and grab a brand new rolled up poster that was still being held in its rubber band. She slid it open and began to tape it up to the wall. She impatiently ordered the other girls to get her more tape, and to hold her chair steady.

"I'm not a bitch, I'm THE bitch and it's Ms Bitch to you." Brittany said, reading out the words out slowly once she could finally see the caption on the poster.

Brittany thought back to her day of following all the ants around in Kurt's house, and she began to picture Antonia as an ant queen, and the other four girls as some of her workers ants.

"No, they're worker-bitches," Brittany said aloud to herself, giggling.

Antonia coughed. "What's that? Seriously are you actually high? You sound like you're on drugs. And what's with all the dorky stuffed animals and the stupid animal hats?"

"I just like them," Brittany shrugged.

"Okay." Antonia rolled her eyes. "Well, my friends are gonna be here pretty much all the time, I hope that's cool with you."

"Um…," Brittany started. "Well, okay, but could you be a bit quieter please?" she asked, raising her voice to carry over the top of Nessa and Nat Nat's third round of Crank dat Soulja Boy, and Monroe's noisy attempts to knock down a tower of red solo cups.

"Cry me a river," Antonia mumbled .

"I'm not crying," Brittany told her, brushing her fingers under her eyes just in case.  
Now that Antonia mentioned it, she did kind of feel a lot like crying. She voiced her thoughts out loud. "I'm not crying now, but sometimes I feel like crying, because now that we're in college I have to miss someone really important to me."

The very moment after she had said it, she realized that it was one of those things that she was not meant to say to someone that she had just met. She wished that she had a working filter on her mouth.

"Do I look like your therapist?" Antonia asked sarcastically.

"No, but you might be a therapist some day," Brittany said, still trying to be nice and directing the statement to the other girls as well. "I mean, that's what we're all here for right? Have you read Chapter One on cognition? It's pretty great so far."

_Not that I actually got past the first word yet_, Brittany thought sighing inwardly.

"Nope, I'm just here 'cause my dad said he'd cut me off if I didn't go," Charlie said, "and for the foam parties."

"And for the booze," Monroe added.

Antonia rolled her eyes. "Don't listen to them. We all went to high school together and they are just a couple of freaking geniuses that never need to study."  
She looked her up and down. "What's your name again," she asked Brittany pointedly.

"It's Brittany. But you can call me Britt if you want," she offered, even though she was pretty sure that she had just made a bad first impression.

"I think I'll call you retard actually," Antonia said breezily. "It suits you. I don't smell pot on you anywhere so you're probably not a stoner, you must just be a little freak."

Brittany turned away from her, trying not to look as hurt as she felt. _Yeah, that counts as a bad impression_, she thought. _So this is what happens when Santana's not here to protect me. If she was here then nobody would be picking on me, because she'd be kicking their ass from here to class_.  
She really wanted to cry now. She went and sat back down on her bed, and picked her textbook up again._  
This is the first time I've ever really been on my own,_ she realized.

She turned the pages of the book rapidly, but her vision was blurred and nothing was sinking in. She sniffled and shut the book, resting her chin on it instead.

_I'm here to get a degree, nothing else matters. No wait, __I'm not just here for the degree, I'm here to learn how to understand people_, Brittany reminded herself. _And, to learn how to understand myself better. And, to learn how to get along with people. Learning about psychology can teach me all of these things. _

She sighed, and pulled out her laptop to email Santana.

* * *

**From Brittany**

**To Santana **

**Subject: Dolphins**

Hey San,

Did you get my last seven emails?

People here don't seem to like me very much. I'm kind of lonely.

These people here aren't at all like dolphins. Did you know that dolphins are totally all about mixing races and hanging out with other species? They even try to get jiggy with humans.

I bet if a dolphin could speak it would say "Love is love, man."

No species would be too weird, not even the Britt species.

I love you times infinity.

* * *

**From Santana **

**To Brittany **

**Subject: Re:Dolphins**

_"This vacation's useless_  
_These white pills aren't kind_  
_I've given a lot of thought on this 13-hour drive_  
_I miss the grinding concrete where we sat past 8 or 9_

_And slowly finished laughing in the glow of our headlights_  
_I've given a lot of thought to the nights we use to have_  
_The days have come and gone_  
_Our lives went by so fast_

_I faintly remember breathing on your bedroom floor_  
_Where I laid and told you, but you sweared you loved me more"_

* * *

**From Brittany **

**To Santana **

**Subject: Re:Re:Dolphins**

I love that song. I'm singing the rest of it out loud to you right now and my roommates are giving me a weird look.

_"Do you care if I don't know what to say_  
_Will you sleep tonight or will you think of me_  
_Will I shake this off pretend its all okay_  
_That there's someone out there who feels just like me_  
_There is_

_Those notes you wrote me_  
_I've kept them all_  
_I've given a lot of thought of how to write you back this fall_  
_With every single letter in every single word_  
_There will be a hidden message about a girl that_  
_Loves a girl"_

* * *

3- _Denial_

"What are you watching, babe?" Puck asked, seeing Santana sitting on her bed, hunched over her laptop, with the screen unnecessarily close to her face.

Santana jumped with a start, and slammed the screen down. "Fucking hell, Puck! Seriously, I'm going to have to ask that you wear a bell, or at least freaking knock on the wall before you enter a room."

"Were you watching porn?" Puck asked with a grin.

"Well, as a matter of fact I _was_," Santana countered. "What of it?"

"Nothing, nothing," Puck said, backing away slowly.

Santana began to visibly relax.

Seizing the opportunity, Puck sprung forward and leaned over her and pulled the screen up so he could see. "If there are any titties, I want in on this," he said.

"Puck!" Santana screeched, hitting him hard on his chest. .

Puck's eyes widened when he saw the image on the screen.

"She wouldn't want you looking at her!" Santana barked. "It was a dumb prank. We were just fooling around."

"_Take your socks off Britt. Why would you leave your socks on when you've taken everything else off? They're distracting me from your gorgeous self." _

"_Why are we doing this again Santana? You're not gonna show Puck are you?"_

"_We might as well show him, I mean guys love this stuff. And we're doing it because it's fun. Now stick your tongue out." _

_Brittany sighed and gave her a look. _

"_Alright," Santana muttered, "it's really just for me okay? I admit it. Come on, we both need a break from studying for finals, and you've been poring over that one college application for hours."_

_Brittany obliged, sticking her tongue out at Santana. _

"_No, do it sexy, Britt, do it like you've got a tongue ring and you're showing it off."_

"_Aahhohkay," Brittany said keeping her tongue out and trying to make her face into what Santana wanted. She put her hands behind her head and posed. _

_Santana took the picture, breathing hard. "Good, good. That's really sexy, Britt. I'm gonna take a bit of video now okay? Keep being sexy. Do your tiger moves. I'm filming." _

_Brittany giggled, and Santana kept recording, making the camera focus in on Brittany's boobs, while Brittany twisted around in various positions on the bed. She giggled again and grabbed her cat, shoving him up close to the lens. _

"_There's two cats now," Brittany announced, arching her back like the furry tabby and copying him. "Twice as much pussy."_

_Santana ate it up, moving backwards and forwards to catch Brittany at all angles. "You don't have a bad side," Santana murmured to her lovingly. "All your sides are your best ones." _

"_Even my butt?" Brittany asked, laughing._

"_You bet," Santana agreed wholeheartedly, focusing in on her face this time. "Now I'm gonna get in the shot with you. Put the cat down." _

"_No!" Brittany said, "he wants to be in this with us. He can be sexy too! We can call this video: Two girls, One cat." _

"_Ugh, no way Britt. Put that fucking cat down, and come over here to me. The camera's rolling." _

_Brittany shrugged. "I suppose I can splice in some clips of him later. Maybe something classy, like some footage of him going to church or doing household chores. Our sex video has to have class."_

"_Yeah, alright, so long as we can do something that's a little less classy right now," Santana said with a smirk, bending over Brittany and capturing her mouth in a kiss. _

"It was just a stupid prank, huh?" Puck said trying to humor her and go along with it. "So did you end up posting it to Youtube? Send me the link."

"No," Santana said almost in a trance. "I made it just for me. She doesn't even have a copy. Nobody does but me." Tears sprung to her eyes. "I just want to hold her and never let her go again."

Puck laid a hand on her shoulder. "I'll leave you alone," he said sympathetically in a rare moment of maturity. "Don't torture yourself too much."

Santana ignored him, and curling up on her side so that she was eye level with the screen, she pressed play, rewinding and replaying Brittany's laugh until she finally fell asleep.

* * *

**From Brittany **

**To Santana **

**Subject: I challenge you… **

Hey San,

I haven't walked into the wrong class all week. That's worth celebrating right? Last week I learned about tort laws just like you and then the anatomy of aging blowflies cause I got the wrong rooms twice. I thought that those subjects seemed a little strange, and that the people looked kind of different, but I stayed anyway 'cause it was fun.

I miss you so much. Me and Kurt went out for ice-cream the other day and it felt wrong to not be holding your hand under the table.

The minute I see you I'm gonna hug you so hard, and we can totally have a rematch of that hug game.

Do you remember? I mean the game we always played when you were in one of your cuddly moods... the one where we'd see how long we could hug each other for. :P

Except, remember how it was kind of more of a contest to see who could go the longest without having to pee? Because that became pretty much the only reason we would ever need to let go of each other. We got pretty good at doing all the other stuff while joined at the hip.

Our record was 12 hours and 37 minutes right? You shouldn't have had a coke or we'd have been invincible. :p Or we'd at least have made it another twenty minutes…

Anyway, I've set the challenge. I love you so much San...

I can't wait til you come and get me! Did you get my last three emails?

* * *

**From Santana **

**To Brittany **

**Subject: Re:I challenge you… **

Britt,

Yeah, getting to the right classes is great.

I'm really focused on what I'm doing right now, it's not like I have time to sit around and miss you or anything, so I hope you're not gonna be too offended that I'm not gonna say how much I miss you too.

I mean, maybe if I did have time I'd watch some old videos or look at your picture… but I don't so…

I don't even have time for me these days, and I have to keep up my perfect GPA and be a good girlfriend all at once.

I've got to go now…

* * *

_4- Frustration_

"Are you ever going to unpack that bag?" Antonia asked, seeing the travel bag still in its place in the corner of the room.

"Nope. That's for when my girlfriend comes to get me. I'd keep more things packed up, but then I wouldn't be able to use them and I need my Hello Kitty toaster and toothbrush like I need to breathe air."

"The retard has a girlfriend, huh?" Monroe laughed, cracking open more beer. "Just don't hit on me."

"I so wouldn't do that. Can I play beer pong with you guys now?" Brittany asked, looking longingly at the game they were playing on a makeshift table. "I've got to learn how to get along with people and it's important."

"Nope," Antonia said, cutting her off abruptly.

"Hmm, you're right. I don't know my stuff and the midterm is coming up soon. I shouldn't get any pong."

"Whatever. Hey, whatever notes you're doing, can you do some for me as well."

"Okay," Brittany agreed. "We girls should stick together and help each other. I'll give you a copy of mine. But the main part of the exam is that we have to be able to look at a picture of a brain and label every part and say what it does."

"Duh, Elle Woods" Nessa said. "I've only looked at the page once and I already know I'm gonna ace it." She hi-fived Nat.

Brittany straightened up and cleared her throat. "Legally Blonde, and Elle Woods, is an inspiration to us all. Seriously. She studied super hard to get into Law School, and then she totally told that asshole Warner guy off and stepped on all his friends. _And_, she did it all by using her intelligence. And _then_, even though she was under a lot of pressure to change and be more boring and square like everyone else, she totally stayed just as pink and true to herself."

"Whatever you say, Blondie," Nessa laughed.

Brittany looked at her, and then turned away from them, finding some earmuffs to muffle out the noise. She swore they were being extra loud all the time for her benefit.

* * *

"I can't do it!" Brittany shouted in frustration.

Everyone in the room snickered. "That's hardly a surprise," Antonia said.

Brittany stood up and began pacing around the room. "I need her to explain this stuff to me," she ranted.

"Who, your mom? Poor baby."

"No! I need Santana to explain how I can learn this."

Brittany typed out a text to her, and sat with trembling hands waiting for a reply. It didn't come.

"Figures," Monroe said. "She's got a fantasy girlfriend."

"She's just busy," Brittany murmured. "It's not her fault." She tried Kurt next, and this time she got an immediate response.

(B) _There are just too many words like Hippopotacampus and Thalamus and they all mean blobby bits that all look the same! _

(K) _Trying drawing some pictures. You seem to think in pictures. Or build your own brain, something you can touch. Give those words some meaning to you. You can do it!_

"Okay," Brittany sighed heavily. "Never quit. I can do this. I'll make a brain cake."

* * *

"'Cause on Cooking a la Brittany, there's nothing under there." Brittany hummed the song to herself, and then pulled the enormous finished cake out of the cake pan and sliced it in half. She cut away bits until it kind of looked like a brain, all the while praying that it wouldn't crumble. It didn't.

"Right. The Cerebellum goes here," she said, squirting some red food dye onto the spongy yellow cake. "It kind of looks like a bell doesn't it?" she whispered under her breath, rubbing her finger over it and then writing 'cerebellum' in the flour on the table, committing it to memory.

"And its function is fine motor control, like precise movements," she muttered. She moved on to the Medulla Oblongata next, and felt the food dye her hand start to shake. She steadied it with her left hand.  
"Braincake, you are so colorful," she said to the cake.

"Well, she's cracked," Antonia remarked.

"I'm fine," Brittany told her.

"I don't think so," Antonia said. "Look, it's none of my business, and quite frankly I don't even care about you or your psycho cakes, but the sound of you bouncing your feet and tapping your fingers over there is driving me insane."

Brittany exhaled. "Sorry. I guess I'm kind of stressed."

She meant the apology. Antonia really wasn't that bad of a roommate. She even usually cleared her bitches out, and went to sleep during Brittany's best study hours which happened to be 3am to 6am.

"And… when are you going to eat?" Antonia asked, sounding almost frightened. "All I've ever _seen_ you eat is toast, and that's weird enough, but lately I haven't seen you eat anything… or sleep."

"I'll do all that when I've finished this," Brittany said with resolve, trying not to yawn. "One thing at a time. Our mid terms are in two days."

"Well... what if you never get this stupid cake thing finished?"

"Then at least I can say I tried my best to learn this stuff. I can tell Santana that I tried my best."

"Fine, whatever," Antonia threw her hands up, and backed out of the room. "I can't stand to be around you right now. I'm clearing out."

Brittany stared down at her cake. "Well, at least we got rid of Queen Bitch Face," she told it, squirting some blue liquid on to represent the hippopotacampus.  
She pointed her finger at it. "Your function is memory, and you're what I'm using right now to remember this stuff. It's just, well I don't think you're working very well right now," Brittany said, clutching her head, then focusing and reading the word again.

"Oh, it's just _hippo_campus. Well, Braincake, did you know that hippos are considered one of the most dangerous animals in Africa? Maybe I could remember this by thinking of the hippocampus as like one of the most dangerous parts of the brain. Memories can be really dangerous things you know, they often drive us to act in strange ways, 'cause don't you just wish you could erase certain things from your mind?"

She paused.

"Hey Braincake? I think that you're my only friend here, and I promise that I'm never gonna eat you," Brittany told the cake in a flat tone, shrugging her shoulders and trying not to mind about it.

* * *

**From Brittany**

**To Santana**

**Subject: Midterms**

Hey San,

So midterms weren't that bad in the end. Braincake helped a lot.

You remember how the Glee club used to sing Lean on me before all our really hard exams?

Well, people actually seem to find singing a bit annoying here, how weird is that? I tried to start them going at the chorus when we were waiting outside, but they weren't having any of it.

In fact, every time I just get up and sing, people actually frown. You can't just walk into the dining hall and... well... burst into song and have people just automatically know how to sing backup, magically pulling out moves that are synchronized to yours.

Yeah. That kind of thing somehow just doesn't happen here.

I've tried to help. When most of us passed midterms, I tried to show them how it's done by making my theme song a mashup of Stronger - Kelly Clarkson and Stronger - Britney Spears, and singing it every time I entered a room. But, I guess i'm not a trendsetter.

How did you go on yours? And are people at your school as repressed _vocally_ as mine?

Call me?

I love you.

* * *

5- _Dedication_

"You guys! Oh my god, you guys! Seriously!" Brittany shouted over the music, crawling over people's feet and trying to reach her laptop.  
"Why are you having a party during my Santana time? You know it's my Santana time!"  
She tried to shield her eyes. Pretty much everyone in the room was at least half naked, and making out with someone.

Engrossed in what she was doing, Charlie moved aside and Brittany ended up getting a front row seat view of her boyfriend's genitalia.

"Woah! Holy Argentine Lake Duck!" Brittany exclaimed to him, backing away. "Did you know that most birds don't have penis's? They do it by touching their hoohahs together, and that's totally all they need to do. But one of the exceptions is the Lake Duck, and boy is he ever an exception, he's got 42.5 inches worth of manhood, and I think you're totally an Argenti-"

"Brittany," Antonia warned.

Brittany sighed. "Right. I'm sorry. Look, I just want to talk to Santana."

"Lighten up, sped," Nat said cheerfully, pulling one of the books that she'd been sitting on out from under her, and tossing it at Brittany's head.

Brittany's exhausted mind, and dull reflexes stopped her from catching the book in time, and it thumped her hard on the side of her forehead.  
"Ugh," she said shaking it off. "But you guys _know_ that Tuesday night is my Santana time, because that's the only time she's got free!"

Her cries were met by a chorus of laughter.

"You can sex party every other night of the week!" Brittany begged. "You already have," she muttered.

"Get over it," Monroe told her. "She only talks to you for like five seconds. You can miss it. Blink, and you've already missed it."

"I'm still shocked that she's actually real!" Nessa laughed, kissing the Lake duck hard on the mouth.

"I can't miss it!" Brittany howled. "Even just seeing her face and hearing her voice for even a little while is the best part of my week. Sometimes It's the ONLY good part!"

"Cry me a river," Antonia said slyly.

"I'm still not crying! And I'm not a retard either, Queen Bitch Face!" Brittany hollered, her rage surprising everyone in the room. She grabbed her laptop and crept into the campus library, and settled down in one of the over-sized chairs and stared vacantly at the screen.

Santana Lopez is _offline._

Five minutes went by. Brittany sniffled and wiped her eyes. She didn't want Santana to know that she'd been crying.

Santana Lopez is _offline_.

Twenty minutes passed. Brittany leaned her head down on the side of the chair and thought about Santana. She pictured the curves of her face, and the way their skin looked together when Brittany laid her arm on hers.

Santana Lopez is _offline._

Twenty minutes turned into two hours. Brittany knew she had to be coming soon. There wasn't much time left of their night.

Santana Lopez is _offline_.

_Time up._ Bleary-eyed and disappointed, Brittany continued to stare at the screen. Maybe Santana got held up and would come later. Maybe there was something wrong and she needed her. She just had to wait. She cuddled her laptop closer to her. _I'll wait forever just to talk to you_, she thought

Santana Lopez is _offline_.

"Hey wake up kid!" The librarian said, shaking Brittany gently. "We don't allow people to sleep in here."

"I'm not sleeping," Brittany murmured, her eyes focusing back onto her computer screen. The time said it was nearly 3am, her best study time. It was lucky that the librarian had just woke her up, because now she had to study math for finals.

Santana Lopez is _offline_.

"Sorry dear, but you _were_ sleeping, and you were shouting in your sleep. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine Ma'am," Brittany said, politely.

The librarian eyed her suspiciously, then her eyes softened. "It's 'dead week' next week isn't it? Are you getting a head start on cramming for finals? Finals can be nerve wracking for you freshmen, especially if you've been living on coffee and have been pulling all-nighters several nights in a row."

"Yep, that's it, and I was just leaving," Brittany said hurriedly, not wanting to cause any more problems. She gathered up her stuff and was out of there before the librarian could voice any more concerns. By the time she got back to her room, there was only Antonia and a couple of crashers that had partied a little bit too hard. Antonia was asleep.  
Brittany picked her way through the mess, and began clearing it away, unable to study with so much chaos around her. It was 4:30 when she finished, and she checked her laptop just in case, even though she knew it was hopeless.

Santana Lopez is _offline_

* * *

**From Brittany **

**To Santana**

**Subject: Penii**

Hey San, are you coming home for Christmas?

I saw so many penis's last night. Is this what college life is all about? And is the plural of that word actually penii? Cause that totally sounds better.

One of the many penii was species, duck, and extra long, long enough to have a mind of its own, I think. So I stepped away into the corner of the room so it didn't shoot out and tap me on the shoulder or something, or worse try to coil itself around me like a boa constrictor.

I guess you got held up right and couldn't get online? That's okay, don't worry about it, but I missed you.

* * *

**From Brittany **

**To Santana **

**Subject: Finals**

Hi San,

We've almost finished dead week now, and I see how it gets its name cause I feel totally dead, and I kind of want to set my statistics book on fire. I'm sorry if like the last… eleven emails I sent you were in zombie language. I tried my best, but hopefully you can translate mmfdffgggggg sounds if you need to.

The only good part about it was that it was finally considered socially acceptable for me to just hand out candy to random people. In dead week, _everyone_ totally agrees that candy brings joy. I tried to keep everyone's energy levels up. I like being a candy fairy.

My first final is soon… I hope I pass, 'cause I had a hard time passing the midterms. Good luck on your exams too. You'll call me after you've sat them all, and you'll tell me how you went, right?

I love you. Call me when you can, okay? I've got the place to myself all night tonight. Well, Kurt's here too 'cause he's staying over.  
But if you wanted to, you could call me, even for just a little while. I know he wouldn't mind…

* * *

6- _Madness_

"I FUCKING LOVE YOU, BRITTANY!" Santana hollered down the phone instead of saying hello. A loud crash sounded.

"Oh," Brittany said, feeling warm and happy all of a sudden. "I didn't know you were really gonna call me, San. And um… I fucking love you too. What's all that noise? Where are you?"

"I FUCKING LOVE YOUUU!"

"I love you too, Santana, but what are you doing?"

"Puck is looking for that Smurf-hunter Gargamel up the exhaust pipe of his car," Santana said laughing hysterically.

"Oh! That's silly," Brittany giggled with her. "Everyone knows that Gargamel travels by vortex on the Forbidden Falls."

Santana kept laughing.

"So how have you been, San? I don't know how I'm going to get through the finals coming up. They have twice as much math than the midterms. I miss how you used to explain everything to me when we were younger, did I ever thank you properly for that?"

"I fucking love you, Britt!" Santana said again.

"Honey, I know. Hey, are you okay?" _Santana's acting weird again,_ she thought.

Santana made an effort to lower her voice. "There isn't a guy in this room who hasn't touched my boobs! But before that I got sick."

Brittany could tell she was pouting. "You're sick?" she asked, trying to follow.

"Yeah, and nobody took care of me like you always do! I loooove you!"

"I wish I was there, Santana," Brittany said slowly, finally getting clued in. "Have you taken something again, or are you just really drunk?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Santana agreed, without really telling her. "Puck gets the best stuff."

"Santana," Brittany warned, wishing she'd learn to stay away from all substances that made her either angry or crazy. _Or sick_, she thought worriedly.

"Oh, you spoil sport. This stuff rocks. It keeps me from thinking about you ALL THE TIME!" Santana practically shouted down the phone.

"What's wrong with thinking about me all the time?" Brittany asked. "I think about you all the time, and I don't ever want to stop."

"It fucking hurts," Santana told her.

Brittany shrugged, even though she knew Santana couldn't see. "Well, yeah, but it hurts way more when I don't think about you, and when I don't keep you with me in my mind."

Santana finally went quiet, and Brittany's heart thudded noisily in her chest, trying to fill up the silence. "San, I wish I could hug you right now-"

Santana nodded, her earrings scratching against the speaker. "I wish I could hug you too."

"And kiss you," Brittany added hopefully, feeling her heart stop thudding and instead begin to twist around painfully with longing. It was like being homesick for a person, not a place.

"And kiss you," Santana confirmed. "Look Britt, I've got to go, they are all waiting for me." The dial tone clicked.

"You take care," Brittany said into the dead receiver, then stuck her head out of the window and screamed, "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Kurt blinked several times, and stared at her from where he was sitting cross-legged in a chair across the room. "Venting your frustrations?"

"Yeah," Brittany agreed. "It's kind of a tradition around here to go all primal and stick your head out the window and scream in the week before finals. Seriously, nobody even gets mad at you, and you can scream as many times as you need to. I haven't even been frowned at yet."  
She paused. "Well, at least, I think I haven't," Brittany said uncertainly, frowning herself as she tried to picture people's faces from her week. "Tonight is the last night that you can do it though."

Kurt changed the subject. "Was that Santana?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"Yeah."

He couldn't let it go. "Well, what was it this time? A drunk call, a stoned call, or a high call?"

"Undetermined," Brittany sighed. "She sounded a bit more far gone this time, so whatever it was, it was strong."

He nodded. He knew how hard Santana could party.

"Oh, by the way, thanks for sexile-ing Antonia," Brittany said gratefully.

"I don't know anyone by that name," Kurt said with a grin, "but I don't think that your roommate, The Grand High Queen Bitch Face, will be back tonight."

Brittany giggled softly. "She totally bought it that you were my old boyfriend coming around for some shallow boob seeking, and well... she kicks me out of the room all the time for her booty calls, so I guess that she realized that she owed me one."

Kurt laughed. "She's a bit dim isn't she? How did she not even suspect that I'm a sweater-wearing theatre-loving flaming homosexual?"

Brittany laughed with him. "You know, I'm so glad that you came, but you didn't have to, you know. I'm okay, and I'm only going to be boring because I have to learn like thirteen chapters of this before tomorrow, even though I've already read them like four times over already. And, hey, shouldn't you be studying too?"

"My exams are kind of different to yours. Britt, and I've already finished them. You get some rest, okay? All that stuff you're talking about can wait."

"Kurt I'm barely passing as it is. I have to keep going. Never quit, remember?"

"Yes, yes I know," Kurt agreed. "But I'd like for there to be something left of you, so you can come and visit me at Christmas."

Brittany looked at him gratefully. At least someone wanted to see her for Christmas.

While Kurt was adding his name to the events page on her calendar, she pulled out one of her textbooks again, and started to circle an important part with a pink marker. She could feel Kurt's eyes on her, and she wondered why he was staring.

"Are you picturing me with blue skin like in that Avatar movie?" she asked, "'cause I totally do that all the time. Some people just suit the Na'vi race better than others."

"No, it's just… that... you're getting really thin, Britt. What, have you lost like eight pounds?" he joked, hoping he was exaggerating.

"It's more like fifteen," Brittany muttered.

Kurt's smile froze on his face and twisted into a grimace. "You know, the much over referenced 'Freshman 15' rule states that people usually _gain_ that much weight in their first year, not _lose_ it," he said.  
_She didn't weigh that much to begin with_, he worried. _Fifteen pounds on her is probably like ten percent of her normal weight. _

Brittany hung her head. "I know."

_Or fifteen percent of her? More?_ He knew his math wasn't good, but screw the math. He could already see in front of him how dramatically different she looked. "So what is it? Haven't you got enough money? Do you want me to talk to your mom, or maybe even I could help?"

"It's not about money."

"Are you skipping meals because of your schedule?" Kurt pressed. "I think I saw a sign saying they're doing midnight breakfast's in the dining hall? You want to go get something?"

Brittany was silent.

Kurt's voice was soft. "I guess heartache doesn't make people feel very hungry, huh?"

"Eating just makes me feel sick lately," Brittany admitted. "Maybe it's because I'm always thinking about stuff that makes my tummy feel sick, like passing everything so I can stay here, or about whether Santana is okay. It's that, but it's not just that, it's also this room."  
She stood up and began to pace the area like a caged animal.  
"This room, is messy and loud, and I never feel safe here. I can't relax in this space. The colors are wrong, and nothing is in its place, and my cat isn't here, and nothing belongs to me. But mostly this room is wrong because she's never been here."

Kurt searched his brain for anything that might help her, and getting an idea he turned his attention to the still open window in her room.  
"Britts, how about I try a bit of that dead week primal screaming that you were doing before? You want to do it with me? It might be cathartic."

_Kurt always uses such big words, _Brittany thought. _Cat-arctic? Maybe he means I might feel as free as like…. a snow leopard? That could work…except… well…  
_She voiced her only concern out loud. "But if you do it, then everyone will hear you, and they will all know that I've got a boy in my room!"

"Have you heard me scream, Britt?" Kurt said with a sly grin. "Nobody will think that there are any boys here."

"Yeah, you do kind of scream like a girl. Okay."

They both stuck their head out the window. "AHHHHHHHHHHHH!" they screamed in unison, and were promptly joined by two girls in the room below them.

Brittany waited for any hoots or holler or jeers that might indicate that someone thought she was getting lucky tonight and/or beginning a new series of 'Blonde's gone wild.'

None came, and she relaxed.

"They did not suspect that you have a penis," she told Kurt matter-of-factly.

He rolled his eyes. "Even I have to check sometimes," he joked, winking at her in case she didn't get it and took him literally.

She tried to smile, but he could tell that it was strained.

"Did it help?" he asked.

"Yeah, it was totally cat-arctic. But you do know that Snow Leopards don't actually roar though, right? So I guess you mean another cat that has adapted to a cold climate, like maybe the Norwgian Forest Cat. If you keep the Forest Cat in captivity with a louder animal they could totally learn to roar as loud as we just did, and plus, they're big. Like, _Maine Coone_ big. And as for their known cat diseases, well, they are totally susceptible to kidney and heart problems and-"

"Woah, woah, woah," Kurt held up his hands. Brittany had been 'going off' like that a lot lately. "It's 'cathartic' and I got that word out of one of _your_ books. You'd underlined it three times like it was something important."

"I had?"

"Yeah. Apparently it's all about expressing repressed emotions, like screaming to get your frustration out, or dancing to blow off some steam."

"Oh."

"Britt, that last chapter you just read, what was it about?"

"I have no idea," Brittany confessed.

"Right, well you're going to bed okay? You're not taking in anything anymore. Just sleep."

"I'm being kind of crazy, right?" Brittany asked him, searching for his honesty.

Kurt gave her an affectionate pat. "Yeah, you are sweetie, but you're _my_ crazy kid."

"And you're _my_ sweater-wearing theatre-loving flaming homosexual," Brittany said just as affectionately back, repeating his words from before.

There was a silence, and Brittany lay down beside him, and she felt his arm come around her.

"I know I'm not _her_, but I am _here_ for you," Kurt said stressing the words. "I'm at least a bit of comfort right?"

"Yeah, of course you are," Brittany told him. "Without you I'd probably have turned around and come back home on the first day," she said sleepily.

"That's a load of crap," Kurt said softly. "You underestimate yourself."

Brittany waited and listened to his breathing slowly even out. She squeezed her eyes shut willing herself to sleep, tossing and turning while Kurt slept on, his arm still loosely draped over her.

Eventually, after another hour of shifting around uncomfortably, she admitted defeat and accepted that for some awful reason, a ghost felt more right than anything real. She wanted to stay here, enjoying the affection from her friend, but somehow she couldn't _just be with him_, and for that she felt wrong and undeserving.

Silently, she rolled off the bed and lay down to sleep on the floor. _I'm addicted to you_, she thought as she drifted off, feeling the ghost of Santana's arms finally come and wrap themselves tightly around her waist, stroking her hair and putting her to sleep..

* * *

**From Brittany **

**To Santana **

**Subject: Christmas **

I missed you at Christmas. I didn't want to put the tree up or anything without you.

But, the good news is that I passed all my finals! Somehow, I actually remembered everything. I tried really hard.  
You're proud of me right?

I still wait for you on Tuesdays you know. Just in case.

I've got a song for you… My roommate is out, so I can sing it as loud as I want.

_"I text a postcard, sent to you_

_Did it go through?_

_Sending all my love to you_

_You are the moonlight of my life every night_

_Giving all my love to you_

_My beating heart belongs to you_

_I walked for miles til I found you_

_I'm here to honor you_

_If I lose everything in the fire_

_I'm sending all my love to you_

_With every breath that I am worth_

_Here on Earth I'm sending all my love to you_

_So if you dare to second guess_

_You can rest assured_

_That all my love's for you"_

* * *

**From Santana **

**To Brittany **

**Subject: Sorry**

I'm sorry for all the times that I've called you when I'm drunk or on something lately. You should just ignore me and you don't even have to pick up next time. Oh, and definitely ignore everything that i've said, because I don't mean it.

* * *

**From Brittany **

**To Santana **

**Subject: Re:Sorry**

I could never just ignore you, and besides, when you call me like that you mostly just tell me you love me. You really don't mean that?

* * *

7- _Loss_

"Let go!" Brittany tried to shout, but found no sound was coming out. "Let go! Santana help me! Santana where are you!"

The invisible force closed around her throat, squeezing her tighter, then she felt something clamp down hard on her mouth.

"Santana!" Brittany tried again, her voice coming out in a muffled whisper. "Help me!"

"Jesus, Britt," Antonia groaned. "Just wake up and knock it off."

Brittany's eyes flew open, and she immediately realized that the hand around her throat, _and_ the one on her mouth belonged to Antonia. She gasped, finding it difficult to breathe.

"I'm not actually choking you," Antonia complained, "and you could wake up the entire building screaming like that. I came over and put my hand on your throat to try and get you to stop talking in your sleep. I had no idea that as soon as I touched you, you would start screaming like a crazy person."

Finally, she moved her hand, and Brittany breathed in slowly in relief.

Antonia sighed dramatically. "I'm tired, and with you always talking and moaning and grinding your teeth in your sleep over there, I personally haven't had a good night's sleep in months. Maybe I haven't even slept well since I went home for Christmas! And when you're not impersonating Moaning Myrtle, you're flipping through our textbook at all hours of the night or drawing up math posters, which by the way, completely fucks up the décor of this room. Why do you always have to bring what we learn in class in here?"

She paused for effect.

"Now please, please, tell me that you're not going to add routinely screaming for your ex-girfriend to that already incredibly annoying list."

"She's not my ex, and she's gonna marry me one day," Brittany insisted. "But I'm sorry for screaming, I didn't mean to. And the posters are supposed to help you as well, I mean we've got our next final coming up soon."

"Yeah, whatever. Look Brittany, in the past couple of months, I've actually sort of become kind of fond of you. Maybe it's because I feel sorry for you always mooning around after _that_ girl, or maybe it's because I still have a supply of chocolate from Easter, because somehow bringing you around with me for that one day over Spring Break was the biggest chocolate egg payoff in history. I mean, seriously, do people usually just practically throw chocolate at you like that whenever you walk by? All you had to do was skip around the day after Easter, carrying an Easter Basket, and leftover chocolate was coming at us from old ladies, from kids and from freaking shopkeepers tipping their entire complementary dishes of it in, as soon as you flashed a smile at them."

Brittany leaned down to look at her stash under her bed. "We totally needed a bigger basket," she agreed, rubbing at her head. It seemed to always hurt lately.

"It was so freaking weird, and what's even weirder, is that it's been ages and you still haven't even eaten any of yours yet," Antonia muttered, then her voice became stronger. "And as I was saying, just 'cause I'm kind of used to you now, that doesn't mean I'm just gonna put up with the Myrtle routine, or that huge bell curve poster you put on our fridge."

Brittany looked up. "We're sort of friends now, right Antonia?"

_I'm pretty sure she hasn't called me a retard since early in March, she_ thought hopefully, scanning over her memories and finding this to be true.

Antonia's voice was gruff. "Yeah. I guess so. But can you just answer your cell before I call the forty watt club and get them to take you away?"

"My cell. Oh Okay! Yes!" Brittany came to life instantly, suddenly realizing how long it had been ringing and grabbing it.

"Santana! Hey! I was just thinking about you and-"

"I'm transferring," Santana interrupted. "Fuck law school, it's not for me. What's the point of studying to be an an advocate of the law if you're out there breaking it the rest of the time? Oh, sorry were you sleeping?"

"Um… no, I was already awake." She tried to make her voice sound like she wasn't sleepy. Like she wasn't even tired. "You have a point there," she agreed. "What are you going to do?"

"Transfer into med school, I think. I didn't want to follow in my dad's deadbeat footsteps, but it's calling me."

A voice sounded in the background. "She slept with one of the TA's!"

"Shut up!" Santana hissed back. "He's lying. Mostly. Maybe I flirted a little, but that's it. It's not my fault that Mrs Kravitz saw us and ratted me out. You believe me right?"

_Ohhh.. Mrs Kravitz was that nosy neighbor in that old show we used to watch called Bewitched_, Brittany thought, slowly getting the reference. She spoke out loud, "Of course I believe you, San."

"I knew you would," Santana said, but Brittany could hear the relief in her voice. "People are such fuckwits here."

"Fuckwits," Brittany repeated.

Santana wasn't finished. "And the research assignments suck. I mean, I save most of my word documents these days as 'fuckyou . doc' That's how much rage they give me."

"I saved one of mine as 'ihatemath . doc' recently," Brittany confessed, and then moved on. "Okay, so med school? You want to help people? Doctor's help people. That's really cool."

Santana scoffed. "Fuck no, I'm not going near people except to show them how research in this field is actually done. I'm tired of hearing all this crap on news channels about shit going down with people not backing their ideas up with evidence."

"Okay. Well, that's still awesome. Um... how is Puck?" She sighed. She knew she had to ask, but she really hated this part.

Santana's voice seemed to soften up a little, or maybe she just got quieter so the people in the same room as her couldn't hear her. Brittany couldn't be sure.

"I was really mad at him because he kept talking to this girl on Facebook and the little bitch was flirting with him relentlessly, so basically I called him freaking out. But then he came home with flowers and kissed me and told me he'd never actually cheat on me, because that was the old Puck and I could trust him now. He swore on Beth. Life is good."

"Life is good," Brittany repeated, feeling her stomach twisting around in knots at the thought for some reason.

"Yes. Things seem to be actually working out for once."

"When are we going to be together?" Brittany asked quietly. "When are you coming to get me?" It was a question that she had asked many times at the end of their phone calls. The answer was usually the same, but she always hoped that one day it would be different.

"I don't know. Not now. Maybe soon. So how about you Britt? How is your life?"

"Life is good," Brittany repeated the phrase because she had nothing better to say. Santana's answer, and her promises hadn't changed, but moments ago, something in Brittany's heart had. For some reason, talking to Santana this time hadn't filled her up and made her warm inside, it had only brought some kind of coldness inside her that felt a lot like despair, and she didn't like it.

When Santana hung up she didn't sleep. With the light of her torch she made shadow puppets on the wall, twisting her fingers into broken heart shapes while she waited for the sun to rise.

* * *

**From Brittany **

**To Santana **

**Subject: None**

**Status: Draft**

…

* * *

8- _Breakdown_

Kurt gripped Antonia's wrist roughly to get her attention. "What did you do? Did you tell her about what goes on at the animal shelter shelter again? You know how that upsets her. You know she can't stand to hear about the millions of animals that are put down every year."

Antonia shook her head. "I swear I never even mentioned anything about the dead cats. Or the dead dogs. She's been weird for days, but I came in today and she was… like this."

"What are we going to do about her?" Kurt whispered.

"Well I'm not doing a thing," Antonia whispered back, looking frightened. "I've asked to switch rooms. I'm not sticking around."

"But she's your roommate," Kurt hissed. "You've been living together for a year now, don't you care about her?"

"She was my roommate, but she's not my problem," Antonia stressed, rolling up the 'I'm a bitch' poster to go.  
"I really didn't do anything to her by the way," she informed him. "I've actually been trying to help her lately. I wake her up when she falls asleep in class, and I've been totally patient reminding her about how to use the coin laundry."

She paused.

"This isn't on me," she stated, "She's been a nightmare this whole time, always insisting that things stay in the exact same place in the room so she can find them, and ranting about her girlfriend, and for a while now she's even been shouting her name in her sleep. And, now _this_? I have a right to just leave."

She exited the room quickly, and closed the door.

Kurt doubted that she would be back, but maybe it was for the best. He knew that Brittany would miss her, even if Antonia hadn't exactly always been nice to her.  
_But,_ a_t least she had been concerned enough to call me and tell me about Brittany's "creepy glassy-eyed stare," _he reasoned_. And she deserves some credit for letting me know that Brittany hasn't been very... active lately._

He'd already been suspicious when Brittany hadn't been returning his calls, so he'd packed up and left seconds after receiving Antonia's. He knew that something had to be definitely wrong if even _Antonia_ was worried.

He'd hoped that Antonia had been exaggerating, but even if he'd believed her, he still wouldn't have been expecting Brittany to look like this.

"Britt. Hey," he said, noticing that she was stirring and that she looked like she was about to roll off her bed. He pushed her back to the middle gently. After tossing around restlessly for a few moments she lay still again.

She hadn't acknowledged him when he'd arrived. Instead, she had continued to sit motionlessly on one of the standard dorm room chairs that he personally knew were really uncomfortable. After a while he he'd grown frustrated by the silence, and he had picked her up and set her down on her bed, where she had immediately sank down, curled around herself, and fallen asleep.

_She kind of looks like she's barely breathing now. If I didn't know better I'd think she was in a coma_, Kurt thought.

He looked her over, over wondering what could have brought this on. It wasn't like the complexities of the human mind was his department. It was supposed to be hers, and it was what _she_ was studying.

His classes on modern fashion, as brilliant as they were, had no relevance here.

While he was waiting for Brittany to wake up, he had passed the time by flipping through her books on biology, cognition and psychological disturbance, but he had found next to nothing that could tell him how he could help her.  
Right now he was looking especially hard at the pages that she had highlighted rainbow with markers, complete with codes and clues to help her remember the text.  
_It looks like a rainbow has thrown up all over her textbook_, he thought, and he couldn't help smiling once, before remembering where he was and finally shutting the books in frustration.

_This is some kind of breakdown_, he thought deciding that it mattered less what the breakdown was called, and more that he fixed it. The goal was now to get Brittany focused again, and out of bed.

"Santana," Brittany murmured in her sleep.

He guessed that he should of seen this coming.  
Perhaps he should have known that they would end up here almost a year ago when he first saw her in that unsure, overanxious state that had overcome her on the same day that Santana had left.

He remembered the desperation on her face as she'd tried to keep busy and forget about everything.  
It wasn't like she had rushed around his house burning a hole in his carpet, and organizing and reorganizing everything that he owned all day for nothing.  
He'd known right from the start that she had been doing all that to try and gain some kind of control over her mind and stop thinking so much about missing Santana.

He stood up and kicked a red solo cup around the room. _Wasn't having a loss of control of yourself the main sign of being an addict?_ Kurt sighed.

_But distraction hadn't worked out for her,_ he thought. If anything, her mind had rebelled and had started to remind him of that Hoarder Henry guy's house from across the street. When she distracted herself, the thoughts just piled up high to the ceiling like Henry's old newspapers that were practically exploding through his windows.

So, after a while she'd just given in to thinking about Santana more than ever.

She was kind of like Henry shutting himself in with all his treasures.

And, in the past few months especially, she had kind of been shutting everyone else out. He had barely heard from her since Christmas.

He glanced over at the corner of the room. After a whole year, Brittany's suitcase was still packed up, with a ribbon tied to the top. The forlorn, but hopeful suitcase still sitting there waiting, struck a chord with him.

It seemed like she was always waiting, no matter where she was, and that she couldn't stop. Even though she wasn't here, everything Brittany did still revolved around Santana.

"And it's hurting you," he said to her softly. "This isn't healthy."

He looked over at her thin frame, and saw more loose hair than there should be on her pillow.

He brushed it away, and stroked her hair, finding that more came out in his hand. The waiting days had turned into months, and these months could turn into years, and that scared him.

Brittany began to stir.

"You're too thin, Britt, and you're too stressed," he said. "Your hair is falling out."

"Eating and sleeping is important," she said softly to him, her voice crackling.

"Yes," he said, encouraged that she was talking to him again. "Come on now, get up okay, just get up. You'll feel better."

She blinked at him slowly. "I'm so tired, I'm so tired," she mumbled, slowly turning away from him.

"Hey, hey, we got rid of Queen Bitch face for good," he joked cupping her chin, and keeping her from looking away.

She finally focused and looked up at him, and he shuddered inwardly. He'd never seen her look at him with such dead eyes.

"What happened, Britt," he said to her softly, keeping his hand on her face.

Brittany's voice was ashamed and quiet. "I couldn't do it without her, Kurt. I tried, I'm sorry. I'm just not anything without her."

"Never quit," he said firmly. "Remember?"

College seemed the furthered thing from Brittany's mind. "She moved on. I can tell. I just need to see her. Life is good," Brittany rambled.

"Brittany," Kurt tried again, then seemed to change his mind. She wasn't in any condition to think straight right now. He placed his arm on hers. "Go home, Dorothy" he said. "Go back to your cat, and be where you feel comfortable, with people that will support you, and then try again."

"You want me to quit?" Brittany asked, confused.

"You're just gonna move back home, that's all. You can still get here by bus every day even though it will be a long trip, and there's a lot you can do online by distance. It's not quitting. We'll get an extension on everything you've got due for now, and it will all work out, I promise."

Brittany's face seemed to crumple and she gave in to tears. "I just need to see her," she sobbed. "I need her. It's not fair."

* * *

They didn't drive home right away. Instead, they drove to Kurt's grandparent's beach house, and the whole time, Brittany seemed half out of it, speaking only to tell Kurt over and over how much she wanted to see Santana, and once again to ask him how he knew the way in the dark.  
"Do you have bat sonar, Kurt?"

The next day, the call came just as the sun was going down. For hours they had just been sitting together on the sand with the waves lazily licking their feet.

"It's my dad," Kurt lied, and before he got up to leave, he put his hand on Brittany's shoulder. She turned her head slightly in response, and looked at him quizzically.

"I won't be long," he promised, and she nodded. She hadn't heard his cell ring at all, she had been too focused on the sounds of the waves.

"What?" Kurt asked when he was exactly fifteen steps away, lowering his voice even though he was sure that fifteen steps was far enough away for the call to be private. Or at least he hoped so. Brittany practically had tawny owl-like hearing.

"She's not replying to me," Santana barked down the phone. "What's happening?"

Kurt's tone was dry. "Hello to you too."

"Has someone been trash talking me? Turning her against me?" Santana raged, unsure of what was going on.

Kurt wondered how to diffuse the situation. "No, she's just not feeling very well right now. Maybe you should come by and cheer her up."

Santana went silent, and there was an extended awkward pause. "Is she…" she stuttered. "You know how she gets. Is she talking?"

"Yeah, she's talking," Kurt said, but his tone wasn't reassuring. He had no idea how to begin to tell Santana how serious he thought things were right now. He heard a voice in a background followed by what he guessed was Santana hastily covering the speaker to yell something back.

"Kurt, I've got to go." He heard her breath hitch.

"She'd like to see you," Kurt said firmly. Although he was no longer sure if Santana seeing her would help things, he still felt he had to pass the message across. He relayed the address and the second he was done, he knew the connection had gone dead.

* * *

9- _Addiction_

After a couple of days by the beach, Brittany's health had only slightly improved. Kurt had resorted to begging her to snap out of it, and although she had tried, she couldn't seem to do what he asked.

Today was the first day that he had actually managed to get her moving around in what passed for a walk, and she was now edging herself along the shoreline, deep in her remembering, and sluggishly tracing other people's footsteps that the beach had long since forgotten.

"_I think that this person is a clown, San" she said, stepping in an abnormally large footprint and wriggling her toes. "Or it could have been Shaquille O'Neal." _

"_I like the little puppy pawprints," Santana said._

"_Me too," Brittany agreed, walking on tiptoes to trace them. _

"It's kind of cold today, isn't it?" Brittany said uncertainly, trying to make conversation. She always felt the cold when nobody else ever seemed to, but she thought that she had to be right this time. "The water is cold."

"It's not too bad," Kurt answered. "If we got in I don't think we would even notice it."

"Are there any bitey fish in the water?"

"I don't think so." Kurt looked her over. He'd sat up last night thinking about what she must be going through, and trying to figure out how he could help, and the more he thought about it, the more he understood why she had gone all Girl, Interrupted on him.

_It's not just that she loves and misses Santana,_ Kurt thought. _It's more than the emotional side, and it's not just about the 'hole left in the city' like she said, or even about the hole in her heart. It's about the fact that she only knows one way to survive and get by, and that way includes Santana._

He watched her put her toe in and wait, nodding at him when she realized her toe wasn't feeling the cold anymore.

_I'm pretty sure that she has some kind of disorder_, Kurt thought, reaching over and holding her hand. _I think I've always known that. Maybe it's ADD or Autism, or something similar. It would make a lot of sense, but in the end I don't care. She's just Brittany._

Brittany started wading out further, but he could tell it was only to please him.

_But whatever disorder she has, Santana had definitely helped her hide it better,_ he realized. He knew that this new college-Britt was the real Brittany stripped away without Santana there to keep her going and pick up the slack.

He knew that those two had a long inseparable history together, and that Santana had always been there to hide the flaws that the pair thought that nobody could see.

He knew more than they thought he did. While Brittany had given as much as she could back to her in different ways, he had seen firsthand how much Santana had always done for her. He had noticed that whenever Brittany couldn't explain herself, Santana would jump in and do it for her, somehow always knowing what Brittany wanted to say.  
He had seen that when she couldn't understand something, Santana would lean down and whisper things in her ear.

Santana had always fought Brittany's battles _for_ her, chasing off bullies and getting her out of trouble with her teachers, comforting her when she was afraid, in a way that she never did with anyone else.

When Brittany forgot to take care of herself, Santana had done it _for_ her, going out of her way to make sure she was eating and sleeping, and not coming to school without a jacket in freezing weather.

_It's like the most complete kind of dependency, _Kurt thought to himself, kicking a shell out of his path. _She's not just emotionally dependent on her, she's physically dependent on her as well, and with all that going on, when she got cut off from her, she didn't know what to do with herself.  
She doesn't know how to be Brittany without her. She has to relearn everything she's ever known, because the most integral part of her world isn't there anymore. For her its like being on a deserted island and having to learn to start a fire by hand when she'd always had matches._

He knew that ready for this or not, she had tried hard. She had held out for nearly a year, but in the end she had worn down and she had crashed. He didn't know what the solution was. He knew that it _wasn't_ to get Santana to do everything for her again, because he knew that somehow, Brittany had to learn to find her own way now.

But he still wished like hell that he could make this easier for her.

"Britt, be careful okay," Kurt told her, having seen something she hadn't seen yet. _Speak of the devil, here comes Satan now._  
He stared her down, trying to communicate words to the dark-haired girl with his eyes, telling her that she had better not make things any worse.  
Even from the distance, he thought he saw the slight nod.

Brittany was shrinking back. "Be careful? Oh, did you see a bitey one? A piranha fish?"

"No, I mean be careful of your heart." It wasn't the first time he had said this to her. "I'll leave you two alone."

Brittany looked up slowly, and thought that she had to be dreaming when she saw Santana hesitantly walking towards them in a long flowing dress. Her hair was blown back in the wind and Brittany could see that she had no shoes on. A year had only made her more beautiful, although Brittany couldn't see any obvious changes.

_Perhaps it is just that she will always be more beautiful in person, than in the picture held in my mind_, she thought.

"You're here now," Brittany uttered softly, knowing that while Santana was still so far away, her voice wouldn't carry to her across the distance and over the wind. Then, with more energy than she could remember having in a long time, she ran across the sand, zigzagging and trying not to trip on all the holes left there by children. When she got close enough, she threw herself forward, reaching her arms out to catch her in a desperate embrace.

The second they touched, something in Santana seemed to change, and as her knees went wobbly she slid down Brittany's body. Falling to her knees, she pressed her face hard into Brittany's stomach, while sudden guttural sobs seemed to shake and tear through her.

Brittany was so shocked that she froze up, her arms going stiff, and for a few moments after the other girl had hit the ground she could only place her hands on Santana's shoulders in shock.

She noticed a burn mark on Santana's hand that was clutching her shirt in a tight fist. "Oh… does this hurt?" she asked, pulling out a small packet of sugar that she'd been hoarding and pouring it over the wound. It kind of looked like a cigarette burn. "Sugar reduces the swelling. Remember when you poured like a whole bag of it over me the day that I fell off my bike?"

Santana only cried harder

Whatever deep funk Brittany had been in melted away instantly, and she quickly knelt down to gather Santana in her arms, holding her as tight as she could. _What is going on?_ she thought. Santana's desperate sobs were almost indescribable to Brittany's mind. _I've seen her cry before, but I've never seen her cry like this._

"What's wrong," she whispered, feeling the year that they had spent apart seem to mean less and less every second. "What's wrong San?"

For the longest time, Santana didn't try to speak, and Brittany held her together, arms secure around her, her fingers occasionally grazing the back of her head or her neck, as she tried to reassure her that she was here for her.

"It's okay," Brittany whispered, cradling her. "It's okay honey, we'll work it out. I love you."

Twenty minutes later, Santana was still shaking violently, and was showing no signs of being able to stop crying.

As she kissed the top of Santana's head, Brittany realized that all people break down in different ways.

_I broke down and stopped functioning_, Brittany thought, remembering the haze and blurred moments of the past few weeks._ I was sad out in the open, and everyone saw._

_Santana has always been different. She buries her feelings, and suffers them in private,_ she acknowledged to herself.  
Holding her now, Brittany could feel that Santana was obviously not as happy as she had been making herself out to be in her messages, and she had probably also been lying to herself, and even to the world for a long time about how she really felt.

In a flash, Brittany understood that Santana's drinking and all the drugs that she had taken hadn't really been about partying, she had used them instead to bury her feelings down further, and to push everyone else away.

_Maybe Santana really had been the one to break down first, it was just that nobody else could see it, _Brittany thought. _She keeps everything as a secret, and the only thing that's different here, is that I don't know how to keep secrets like she does. _

Brittany had thought that she was the only one that was addicted to their relationship, but maybe that wasn't true.

"I understand," Brittany murmured in her ear. "I felt the same way the whole time."

Santana wheezed, trying to speak, and Brittany had to strain to hear. "It's like you've always been the air I breathe," Santana whispered. "And I was cut off except for this tiny piece of you that I got through letters and over the phone, and it was like I couldn't breathe. I had to find other ways, and other things, and sometimes it felt like all my oxygen was gone, and that I was breathing carbon monoxide."

The pain in her words tore through Brittany, and it felt like a wake-up call.  
_I shouldn't have let myself get to that point_, Brittany realized. _She was hurting just as much as me. I got a trip to a beach house to recover, and what does she get? She gets nothing 'cause she doesn't talk about it._

_From now on, I'm going to be stronger_, Brittany thought determinedly. _Because I need to be strong now, for us both. _

Without warning Santana stood up, pulling Brittany with her. "I need you now, Britt" she begged, pulling on Brittany's hand, her eyes glittering with tears of desperation. _Maybe if she touches me enough I'll feel like I can breathe again_, Santana thought, trying to swallow away the lump in her throat.

It didn't take them long to be in the first room they found with a bed, peeling off each others layers. Santana shed the dress she was wearing quickly as if anything that could keep her from Brittany's skin was almost offensive to her. She tugged on Brittany's shirt, her movements rushed and almost frantic, while Brittany whose hands was slow and steady, found herself needing to help Santana's shaking hands undo the buttons and get her bra undone.

"Take your time," Brittany said to her gently, watching her struggle. She had waited a year to be with Santana again, and she knew she could wait longer.

"No…," Santana said pushing her down, her need overpowering her ability to form words. "Touch me."  
She gripped Brittany's shoulders pushing her hair out of the way, and then she pressed her face into her bare skin and inhaled slowly.

Brittany bit her lip. _She really wants to be with me,_ she thought, feeling her face light up in a smile.

She trailed her hands down her spine, feeling Santana lower her head and kiss every inch of her that she could reach before rolling them over so she was on top. She leaned over her, relying on her upper body strength to keep herself suspended. "Touch me Britt… harder," she said again, moaning softly as she felt the heat building.

It was a familiar feeling to Brittany, she remembered this dance in its every detail, and she felt all her senses screaming in recognition. She could feel Santana breathing hard against her, wanting them to rush. Brittany shook her head, setting the pace with slow lingering kisses. She wanted to slow this down as much as she could, wanting to savor every moment. She had no idea which part of Santana that she wanted to kiss most, and by the lack of any pattern happening when Santana kissed her back, she guessed she felt the same way.

She clutched at her, letting Santana's hips fall into hers and rock against her in a steady rhythm. She had a thin sheen of sweat coating her forehead and her lips were already swollen.

_She is just so beautiful_, Brittany thought, running her hands over her and focusing on the texture of her skin. She had always felt just right to her fingers, not too hard, and not too soft.

"Harder, Britt, be rough," Santana asked again, but her voice was more uncertain this time.

Brittany shook her head slowly, before parting her lips and kissing her again. Hard and rough was how the boys touched her. Santana had always said it was different with Brittany, and that she liked it different, all soft and gentle.  
"Remember… us… Santana," Brittany said between kisses, feeling Santana start to suck on her neck, edging towards the middle and licking her slowly, travelling down between her breasts all the way to her bellybutton and lingering there as if greeting an old friend. Brittany smiled. Santana had always told her that she had the cutest belly button.

"Britt…," Santana whined, breathlessly, turning her head.

"Okay," Brittany said softly. She knew what she wanted. With an open palm, she pushed gently on Santana's stomach, until she got the hint to lie down.

As soon as she had, Brittany leaned on the other girl's thighs and slid her finger closer to Santana's center, noticing that she parted her legs for easier access.

Santana was already writhing underneath her when she rubbed her thumb over the sensitive part at her entrance, and then slid her finger in, moving it to the spot that she knew she liked best. She felt wet, more wet than Brittany could ever remember her being.

She pushed her finger forward easily, hearing Santana moan when she reached her core, and clench around her.

"Relax," Brittany whispered, using her other hand to reach out and hold one of Santana's hands tightly. "I love you."

She looked into Santana's eyes seeing the combination of pain and pleasure that she always saw when they did this together. Some times she understood what lay in those eyes better than in others. Loving someone always came with pain, or it wasn't real love. Real feelings held the whole spectrum, and when Santana was open and vulnerable, lying naked before her like this, in spite of her disorder Brittany could see it all.

"I … love… you… too," Santana said breathlessly as Brittany pushed her finger in and out, feeling it slide easier each time. She leaned down and kissed Santana while still inside her, feeling Santana's hips shake under her with waves of pleasure as she came into her hand.

When she was done, Brittany pulled her fingers out and rested her head on Santana's chest trailing her fingers over her stomach.

Santana wasn't trembling anymore, and she seemed calm and relaxed for the first time since Brittany had embraced her on the beach. Peaceful, even.

"I feel good now, I'm in a good place," Santana said simply, and Brittany nodded her understanding into her chest as Santana's arms came around her, holding her tightly.

It was quiet now, it felt like all the sounds of college life were finally gone, the only sounds were that of their love.

Santana's chest was rising and falling slowly, her breathing becoming shallow in the way that it always did before she fell asleep. "I love you, Santana," she told her, hearing a contented sigh in response and a kiss pressed to her forehead.

Brittany struggled to stay awake, but soon felt her own eyes closing, the sense of serenity lulling her into the first peaceful sleep that she'd had in months, wrapped up tight in her lover's arms.

* * *

10- _Understanding  
_

"I missed the little things the most," Brittany told her, swinging their hands between them as they sat on the boardwalk, dangling their feet over the water.

"Hmm?" Santana asked. "Like having amazing sex?"

Brittany gaped at her like the unseen fish beneath her feet. This was the first time that Santana had ever acknowledged the fact that they had sex together afterwards, or outside of the bedroom. _She even said it was amazing_, Brittany thought giddily, smiling at her and squeezing her hand.

The had slept for hours, only getting up because Santana had to pee. It didn't look like they were going to beat their old continuous hugging record time of twelve hours and thirty-seven minutes anytime soon. _But then again, we're still young,_ Brittany thought.

They had been sitting in a comfortable silence, talking every now and then about anything that came into their heads.  
_But I've got something important to say now_, Brittany realized, squeezing Santana's hand and turning her attention back to her, her voice turning rough and emotional.

"I missed that too, but everyday, hour by the hour, I always missed the little things, like knowing that you were learning new things without me. Or wondering which movies you were seeing, or if you liked a new flavor of cereal that had just come out, of if you even knew about it. You have a new little freckle here on your shoulder that I haven't seen before, and I know that sounds unimportant, but I like knowing all of your body. You're wearing a dress today that I haven't seen before."

"I bought it last week," Santana said. "I thought you'd like it." She wriggled closer until she could lean on Brittany's shoulder.

"I do," Brittany assured her. Then she kept going. "It was always the little things, like having to go a whole day without hearing your voice. Nothing makes sense without you, you know. I felt like without you, nothing could ever make me happy-"

Santana paused, and then lifted her head up off her shoulder.

"Brittany, as beautiful and romantic as that is, that's also my problem with you," Santana admitted, interrupting her.  
"I don't think I'm strong enough to carry you through life. You still don't know who you are without me. You wait for me to tell you what to do and how to do it, and when I'm gone you don't function. I feel pressured to not leave you alone, and I don't want to be pressured, because love isn't about that."

Brittany's eyes immediately filled with tears.

"No, baby, no," Santana said gently, cupping her chin. "Don't cry. The thing is, is that I have the exact same problem. I don't know who I am without you either. You make me _better_, and without you I think I just kind of suck. I've made a million stupid decisions these past few months trying to find out, and I think so far all i've figured out is that I don't like who I am without you. But that's just it, I don't think you're strong enough to carry me through life either."

She paused for effect.

"You couldn't breathe without me, and I couldn't breathe without you," said Santana. "We're addicts."

"Addicts," Brittany repeated, trying the word on her tongue and saying it out loud for the first time.

"You're like my crack," Santana joked. "And trust me, I'd know."

Brittany couldn't help but to shoot her a worried look.

Santana shrugged. "Maybe it's not healthy for us. You're the psych major."

"Ugh," Brittany said pushing her playfully. "I'm kind of only just passing. I'm saving my word documents as fuckyou . doc now too, same as you. What's the next level of rage after that? Burning the place down? Walking out and quitting?"

"Never quit, Brittany."

Brittany looked up.

"Don't give up on yourself… don't give up on you, just like how you never give up on me," Santana added thickly.

Brittany made a face. "You sound exactly like Kurt."

Santana met her eyes and gave her a look.

"Okay, I know San, and I won't. Really. I always knew I had to keep going, but I guess today made me figure out why."

"Why is that, Britt?"

"Because I'm not special," Brittany explained. "I used to not be able to see how everyone else thinks and feels, and I used to be stuck in my own head. But really, there are billions of people out there fighting all kinds of battles everyday. It's you and me, and it's them, and it's all of us. You reminded me of that. We've all got our own things to face, and I don't get to be the one that lies down on the sidelines and stares into space all day. I'm part of something bigger now, so I have to keep fighting alongside everyone, and it's just called being a part of the world."

Santana smiled a slow smile at her, catching her eye and waiting until she smiled back.

"I just know you're gonna make it, no matter what happens." Santana told her.

Brittany kissed her on the nose. "You will too," she said back, then kissed her on the side of her face when Santana suddenly looked a whole lot less sure. She figured that it would take at least a few more kisses to convince her.

Seven kisses later, with her eyes half closed in contentment, Santana felt around and poked her in the ribs. "How can I not be completely addicted to you and your gorgeous face?"

Brittany was quiet for a moment.

"I don't know if it's smart or if it's healthy, Santana, but I guess being addicted to you just makes me want all of you more," she said slowly. "All of you. Like you have all of me."

"I know," Santana said softly, understanding what she really meant.

Brittany traced a pattern on her arm. "Okay, but did you know that, 'I miss you' in French translates to something more like 'you are missing from me?'"

"Who taught you that?"

"You did, well you did _once upon a time_." Brittany made her voice drone on like she was reading a storybook.

"Oh." Santana gave a small laugh. "Well, apparently I make a lot of sense then. I guess it means that when I miss you, it's like I'm missing a part of me, right?"

Brittany nodded. "Yeah. When I don't have you it's like I don't have all of me. Sometimes it even feels like without you there isn't much of me at all."

"The French were the first true addicts for love then, yeah?"

"Or maybe they are just a culture of people open enough to use language to tell it like it is when people love each other with everything they have," Brittany offered.

"Maybe," Santana agreed. "I guess that's the debate. But Britt-"

"I know," Brittany interrupted her. "I know we have to learn to breathe without each other. And, when we're apart, the main part that's missing from us can't be our lungs. We need to choose a less vital organ to go away when we have to miss each other."

"And don't say the heart," Santana said firmly. "We need that too."

Brittany grinned wickedly at her for a second, and when she caught up and realized why, Santana burst out laughing. "Oh my god. Don't say vaginas Britt, I know you're about to go there."

"I wasn't," Brittany huffed in mock indignation. "I was gonna say… earlobes."

"Like hell you were," Santana smirked.

"How about hands," Brittany said suddenly. "People can use only one hand and function just fine. When we're apart it just needs to feel like we're still holding hands, but we can go on and do everything else with the other."

"I think that's it, Britt. So long as they are not the hands that we write with."

"Yeah, I totally have to take notes in class. Okay, so I keep your right hand then, San, and you keep my left one."

"I'd like that."

There was a silence, and Brittany knew that she had to tell her the rest of what was on her mind. "It's not time is it? Time for us? This isn't you coming back for me is it?"

"No," Santana said, pulling her close for another hug. "I'm sorry. I have to go back tomorrow."

Brittany nodded, and in the back of her mind, buried under a pile of hopes and dreams, she knew that she wasn't surprised, and that she had even known that before she had run to embrace her yesterday.  
Wanting to make the best of it, she smiled and made her voice light. "But we still have today, don't we San?"

"Yeah, we do." Santana sounded relieved.

Brittany leaned back in and hugged her tightly, not wanting to waste the rest of the day by being sad that it would end.  
"I love you with all my heart," she said softly.

"And I love you back with all of mine."

Brittany thought about it. "I bet that's one phrase that translates directly into French. Do you know for sure, San?"

"Nope. Sorry, Britt, I've run out of French. But I can do it in Spanish. Do you wanna hear it in Spanish?"

Brittany nodded her head up and down.

Santana laced her right hand through Brittany's left one and looked her in the eyes. "Te quiero con todo mi corazón."

* * *

**All the things:**

**1. I deliberately didn't give a name to the college Brittany went to for privacy reasons, but lets just say I was really lucky to get in and it was an amazing place.**

**2. I didn't see them anymore, but I know that "Antonia" 'got bored and wanted to travel' and dropped out of college before finishing her sophomore year. Of those five girls, "Nessa" was the only one to complete the degree.**

**It was easier to get in than usual when I applied, but that then turned into a really high dropout rate of people just disappearing, and never coming back.  
****I'm not saying if Brittany finished college or not yet.**

**3. I sent "Santana" many, many more emails and messages than the couple I put in. I wanted to be sure that she didn't miss anything, and that she got to be a part of everything and didn't feel left out.  
****I got sad when I watched the season 4 episode "Britney 2.0" because at the end, I'm pretty sure Brittany on the show was making the exact same face I used to make while waiting for my "Santana" to come online.**

**4. I lost count of how many times I managed to sit in on the wrong classes. I made a game of it in the end and decided I enjoyed learning new things. Navigating that huge campus was so hard for me.**

**5. The songs we sent each other are called "There is" by Boxcar racer (with an edited lyric) and "Last night on earth" by Greenday. She loves those songs, and always said that they remind her of me.  
The scene that I wrote where I had Santana miss me and watch our 'porn tape' was actually courtesy of Puck. He was the one who occasionally told me about it when she did things like that. **

**6. My nickname after I made the cake was "Braincake." I thought it was cute, because most people didn't know the story behind it, and they actually used it to compliment me because they thought that being a 'braincake' meant to be smart.**

**7. Even though I haven't experienced a final exam for a while, I still remember how to speak fluent 'zombie.'**

**8. Kurt became my 'sweater-wearing theatre-loving flaming homosexual' _saint_ in those times. He is a great friend, and a very perceptive one. While we were in high school, he was pretty sure I had ADD, but then afterwards when he got to know me better he realized it was probably autism even before I told him.  
****He also somehow knew the minute we graduated high school that something was probably going to happen to me, so he invited me over the next day, and has pretty much been there since.**

**9. I titled the sections because breaking down occurs in stages and each stage matters and contributes to the next one. Mine were:  
****1. Distraction. 2. Promises. 3. Denial. 4. Frustration. 5. Dedication. 6. Madness. 7. Loss. 8. Breakdown. 9. Addiction. 10. Understanding.**

**I think it looks a bit similar to a model of the typical stages of grief that people universally go through that I learned about in one of my classes**

**It's called the 'Five stages of grief.'  
****1. Denial. 2. Anger. 3. Bargaining. 4. Depression. 5. Acceptance.**

**10. I kind of played down how bad my depression actually got to an extent, just for the story's sake. All the details are there, but it went on for longer and I was a bit less responsive.  
****I did snap out of it when I saw "Santana" crying like that though. I've _never_ seen her cry that hard before or since.**

**When I told her "I'm not special" I also meant that I'm not _special_, as in Special Ed, as "Antonia" was so fond of saying. I meant that I just needed to keep on going, just like everyone else, and anything less was undervaluing myself.**

**11. The last section, that entire long conversation and everything we talked about is very personal to me.**

**12. The title "From me to you" represents not only the letters we sent, but also how I tried to send her all my love from so far away.**

**13. The number of comparisons I've had people in my real life make between me and Elle Woods of Legally Blonde is kind of funny, so I put a reference or two in.**

**In the next chapter I'm gonna start with talking about visiting her and seeing what her new world was like, and I'm going to attempt to write all the way up to now, present day. I think it's time. But if that doesn't work out i'll have to split it into two chapters, so I guess we'll see how that goes. I can say now though, that the next chapter (or two) will _not_ actually be the ending. **

**Thank you for listening, unicorns, snaps and claps :p I love you all, and I hope you have a very Happy Easter soon. :)**


	23. Down The Rabbit Hole

**Hey Unicorns! :) I think I got about 27 reviews for the last chapter which is just so awesome, and it means so much to me. I'm still determined to finished this. I was actually working on this chapter and the next one at the same time, so hopefully the next one will be up soon too. **

**When it comes to warnings, this one contains drug use, and observations of unconventional sexual practices. **

**unicorn P – That's a really good question, and that's probably one of the main things I still have to answer. Maybe it's even the most important part of all of this. I really want to answer that properly, so in the next chapter (which I've already written most of) I will do my best to explain. Thank you for what you said. :)**

**Flor :) – I am also grateful to the person on tumblr that sent you here! I'm also happy that you mentioned the humor, because I had a person or two tell me in pm's that me and my story is 'too depressing,' and while I did put this in the angst category, I don't feel that it's a 'sad story' or I've had a 'sad life' or anything like that. It's about all shades of light and dark, and good or bad, and I wanted to thank you for being someone that I know really understands that. Also, you're welcome, and I for one think your English is excellent. :) **

**Miara848 – Thank you, oh and you're definitely a unicorn, and a very special one to me :) I have only just finished my chocolate easter eggs actually, but I think I still have some peeps :p I have a hard time eating those cause they are so cute. ****As for shipping other couples, I guess I'm so Brittana focused that I don't really notice anyone else much, even though there are some other really nice couples. It's like I have Brittana colored glasses on. Oh, but I have to say I did really like Samcedes. I love Mercedes so seeing her be with someone was so great. *gives you a really, really big hug* :)**

**broken-timemachine**** - I have to admit, I don't miss my ex-roommate(s) that much. :p They did throw a book at me that time. They were kind of fond of throwing things at my head, but usually smaller and lighter objects that didn't hurt. I guess when that happened they were too drunk to judge any better. Sometimes I kind of wanted to bitch-slap them too ;). Thank you, and I'm sending you a hug :)**

**allal0ngthewatcht0wer****- *virtual hugs back* :) I also was in detention a lot … for finger tapping and for this clicking noise I used to make with my tongue, and of course for my constant imitations of other sounds in the room. The clicking noise earned me the nickname Maggie like the baby from The Simpsons from one teacher, because I guess it sounded a bit like the noise she makes. "Santana" used to copy whatever I had done when we were young, so she could come to detention with me, and it was always pretty funny to watch her do that. **

**brittana1314**** – You're welcome, and I hope you find the love you want someday too! :)**

**nayainspired93 – I like to think that the people reading understand me more and more with each chapter too. Each time (and with each piece of the past) we get a little closer to the present where I am the person I am now, today. Thank you for reading. :)**

**Canine Warrior**** – Thank you :) I'm not sure how "Santana" would react … that's actually part of my disorder – not being able to get in people's heads and predict reactions very well, but knowing her she would react in several different ways. She'd probably be touched, happy, sad, angry… everything.  
****I can tell it's something that I do want to share with her when she's ready though. I've left her so many hidden messages throughout the text, things in code that only she could understand.  
****Also, wolves are awesome. One time, Santana and I totally dressed up as Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf… and she made the cutest (and least 'big bad') little wolf.**

**ChaosRocket**** – Don't worry! I will keep writing it until the very end. :)**

**hlnwst - ****I'm wishing you the best of luck with your original work! I'd love to read it myself when you're done. I kind of had this dream that I was a real author with people buying my story a little while ago actually, but I know I'd want my "Santana" to be part of it if I edited it into a real book. I'd want her to have the first and last pages (the 'foreword' and the 'afterward' I think they call it). I know it would be amazing to have this out there, but I also know I wouldn't be able to release this without her getting her say. Oh! And I knew the very day you recommended this to your readers the second time, cause all of a sudden I got a whole heap of alerts all at once and I totally knew you had something to do with it again :p :) **

**heybrittbritt - Hola, ¿cómo estás? :) I'm sorry your long distance relationship didn't worry out for you :( I hope you like this chapter!**

**daydreamernightdoer – Thank you, and I know what I said doesn't make that much sense yet, but I don't worry I definitely have a plan and I don't want to mark this as complete until it really feels like it is. :)**

**Bmcbrid – I agree with all you said :) I think that breaking down like that did (in the end) made Brittany stronger, and gave her more of a fighting spirit than she had before. Independence is such an important thing, and while I guess it isn't achieved overnight, all little steps count. Oh, and I wish I had a photo of the brain cake, and knew where to get hold of some jellybeans. For Easter I mostly got Peeps and Angry Birds eggs. :)**

**natalya3721 – You're welcome :) and I also believe everyone has a story to tell... and I guess we somehow have to find the words to tell it too. I know I didn't have those words in my head when I was 16 or 17, or even 20. **

**I'm kind of out of space and time now, but also thank you very much to ****73amy37****, ****MGale****, ****wkgreen****, ****luceroadorada****, cord, ****JEJ,****MisAtentionSpan****, ****Peaceagent15, ****najiow****,**** just. a. dreamer .named. jay ****and Guests. I read every review I get and truly treasure the support. I hope you all like this chapter :)**

* * *

**Chapter 23 – Down The Rabbit Hole**

**Brittany S. Pierce, Present**

Dear Santana,

I'm sorry that I didn't understand that you had a problem with drugs. Even a month before today, I still didn't get it.

You told me that it was just for fun. You said it wasn't something that you spent much money on, and that you could stop anytime.

I still believe that you didn't lie to me about any of that.

I figured out that being dependent on substances will not always look dramatic or dangerous like some people will tell you. It doesn't even have to be that noticeable.

There are lots of people out there who work, who go to school or university, and who keep up their social lives, but still abuse substances at the same time.

You told me that unless you were lying in a gutter somewhere, shooting up, then you were fine.

But you weren't fine, Santana, and that's because you were using these pills in place of real intimacy with people. You used them to make it easier for you to satisfy Puck, and to make and keep friends.

Maybe you weren't physically dependent on them, but emotionally you definitely were.

You know what? Once I came across a bag of cocaine at somebody's house, and I actually thought twice before throwing it out, because I knew how much stuff like that was worth to you.

Sometimes, you even acted like it was worth more than me.

I forgive you for that, Santana. I forgive you for everything. I'm just trying to understand.

Love,

Brittany

* * *

**Brittany S. Pierce, age 20**

"Miss Lorraine! Miss Lorraine. I need to talk to you about my grade. What did I do wrong?" Brittany asked, bursting into the teacher's office, speaking before she was even all the way inside. "I'm in your class and I messed up the mid-term we had last week and this is a disaster!"

"Look through your notes again," Lorraine muttered, keeping her finger on the column of data she was adding up in her dead. "And it's just Lorraine, you don't need the honorific. Damn, I lost count again," she grumbled. It had been one of those days.

Brittany didn't move. She dropped her arms down to her sides and shifted around on her feet, looking lost.

Lorraine grabbed the textbook and flipped through it. "Read Chapters 11 and 12," she suggested. "Especially look at the case study. I was looking for something similar to that."

"Right," Brittany said cheerfully, relieved she now had a plan. She shuffled out the room and soon disappeared from sight.

Fifteen minutes later, Lorraine had finally regained her concentration, only to be disturbed again by the girl coming back. "What is it now, um-"

"Brittany."

"Okay, Brittany you can't have read all that so quickly. Maybe you could ask one of the TA's to help you if you're still confused."

"I can't. I don't want to ask the one that stares at my boobs, and the rest aren't in their offices. And I _so _did read it. I just read fast."  
Brittany then recited several passages of the text almost word for word to prove it. "I read it all, I'm just not sure what it actually says," she finished. "Please help me."

As Brittany spoke, Lorraine's eyes widened and she took off her glasses and polished them, then replaced them, balancing them on her nose_. Well, this one's probably on the autism spectrum, _she thought, watching pieces of the puzzle come together as Brittany started up on another awkward explanation of why she couldn't find a TA. With a thirty year long career of working with autistic kids and adults, Lorraine was experienced enough to be able to spot the signs quickly of autism quickly, and if nothing else, Brittany's body language gave her away.

"Let me see your exam paper," she said kindly, smirking when Brittany handed it over almost like it was a contaminated thing.  
"Okay, well here's the first problem. We gave you a case of a young woman and you've written her a pretty good treatment plan, but nowhere in your report have you stated what her differential diagnosis is."

"It was PTSD," Brittany interjected. "Post traumatic stress disorder. She saw an accident and it upset her very much."

"That's right. So why didn't you tell me that on paper?"

"I guess I thought it was obvious?" Brittany shrugged.

"In an exam nothing is obvious. We don't know what you're thinking okay? And even if you had told us it was PTSD you would still have had to tell us _why_ as well. You _have_ to spell it out, or it's like doing a math problem and just writing the answer and not showing the working out part and expecting full marks. You need to work on your communication."

"Okay," Brittany agreed writing '_communication_!' on her hand.

"Secondly, you need to write more words and less pictures. Sometimes a picture is okay, but even though I could tell you understood the concept of the homunculus, I had to give you zero marks for your graphic depiction of it, because we needed more words. So again, communication is the issue."

Brittany nodded, and added a few exclamation points next to the word on her hand.

Lorraine stared at her, wondering what her story was. _She's clearly high functioning enough to have made this far_, she thought, wondering how she could have missed her in her class this semester. _Surely I would have noticed her. Something about her interests me. _

"I'm sorry I missed most of your classes," Brittany said, answering the unspoken question, and looking at her feet.  
"I've been… sick… and it's a long way to come from my house because I had to move back home. I'm still trying to keep my grades up, and this midterm was really important to me. That's why I…oh!"  
She tensed visibly, making her hands into fists. "Were you busy? I forgot that asking if people have time for my questions is really important! I'm sorry, usually I'm more polite than this."

Lorraine could tell she was beating herself up, so she gave her an understanding smile. "It sounds like you have a lot on your plate."

Brittany's eyes narrowed and she looked down, and then around for the mysterious plate, wondering if the teacher was offering her cookies or something.

After a beat they both slapped their heads in unison. _Ugh… oh dear,_ Lorraine thought. In all her years of experience she had never been able to stop using those phrases that many of her autistic clients took literally, no matter how many times she had tried to train herself not to say them. _I'll never learn_, she scolded herself.

_Oh my god! I took what she said literally again,_ Brittany thought moaning internally. _Not again! I've looked up a whole list of those confusing sayings and what they mean like ten times on the internet. I'll never learn, _she scolded herself.

Seeing their shared body language, Lorraine smiled. "No, Brittany I mean it sounds like you might be quite stressed over the things you have to do."

"I kno-ow!" Brittany told her, drawing the word out. "I really know what it means. It's just those kinds of phrases create a certain kind of picture in my mind, and I get caught up in that and totally forget it has a double meaning."

"I know," Lorraine said, almost tempted to run the syllable as long as Brittany had. "Look, when I'm not teaching, I run a clinic here on campus and I see several autistic clients, young and old, per week. If you're not interested in that then I also have free group sessions where many of my adult clients sit around and discuss strategies with each other. Even if you're not one of my clients you could still attend those sessions and-"

Brittany's eyes suddenly got big and tearful, stopping Lorraine mid sentence. _Okay_, she thought, watching Brittany's posture droop in a way that seemed almost heartbreaking to her. In that moment their eyes locked, and Lorraine knew that Brittany knew that she had figured her out, and that that she was taking it like that made her a failure. _I really do wonder what her story is_, she thought again.

"I'm doing fine," Brittany mumbled. "Really, I am. I don't need any-"

Lorraine backtracked. "I need an apprentice who knows what it is like for my clients," she covered, interrupting her. "You'll be in your junior year in a couple of months, so maybe you'd like to get a head start on learning some good professional techniques in person, rather than just acquiring knowledge from your textbooks. I think you could be an asset to me, and you could help me boost the feeling of morale in the room."

Brittany lifted her head. "Really?" she asked. _Helping other people? Being an apprentice, _she thought. "Wow Mrs Lorraine, I will do my best! I won't bring your broomsticks to life to do the work for me either," she promised.

Lorraine was bemused. "Yes, really, and um…what?"

"You know, like Mickey Mouse in Fantasia. The Sorcerer's Apprentice. I like Disney."

"Oh!" Lorraine allowed herself to laugh. "You know, I think my daughter loved that cartoon with the mouse and the brooms when she was little."

Brittany smiled back. "Thank you for the opportunity, Miss Lorraine."

"Just Lorraine, Brittany. College students don't need to say the rest." She looked at her watch.

"I've got a group coming right about now. They all have Asperger's. You can sit to the side and watch if you want. There's a boy that I'd like you to get to know, he can be very low functioning at times."  
_I can already see that you're miles ahead of him,_ she thought, studying her, worried for the boy who was proving so difficult to help. "His name is Danny, and I'd like you to talk to him, and see if over time you can help him to make some better choices."

Brittany nodded eagerly.

"And, I'd like you to meet Kat. She's going to take the floor for most of the hour today. Unlike Danny, she is very high functioning, and only comes to these group meetings to help and inspire the others. Our private sessions are mostly about her coping with everyday stresses, because she still needs help to cope with the demands of her job, and difficulties with her husband and children."

_Jobs, husbands and children?_ Brittany thought. _That sounds so… normal_. She didn't have time to think about it for long before a small, skinny boy that was likely years older than he looked wandered in, looking around as if everything on the walls was fascinating, until he finally caught sight of Brittany.

For at least a whole minute they sized each other up, subtly shifting around to see each other at all angles. She couldn't help but to stare. There was just something about him, something in him that Brittany recognized but couldn't describe.

"What's your name," Brittany asked finally. He had large round glasses with huge eyes peering out from them, and ruffled windblown hair that stood up in all directions. _I bet it's Harry,_ she thought. He kind of looked like Harry Potter.

"Danny B. Watson," he replied in a pleasant, but low monotonous voice, training his eyes on her feet.

_Not Harry_, Brittany thought. "Ask me mine, now," she prompted helpfully.

"Oh yeah!" He laughed a little. "What's your name."

"Brittany S. Pierce."

"Hello."

"Hello."

There was a silence.

"Do you like cats?" Brittany asked hopefully after a beat. It was the best conversation starter she had. But then again, sometimes it worked, and sometimes it didn't.

"Yeah. I do. I have two of them. Their names are Batman and Betty Hissface. Did you know that the first cat in space was French-"

"Yeah!" Brittany interrupted, standing up straighter. "The year was 1963, Her name was Felicette and she was the first cat astronaut to survive the trip! She was badass. All cats are. Did you know that in the original Italian version of Cinderella the fairy godmother was a cat? Hey, you think my cat can add yours on Facebook?"

"Sure, but only Betty has a profile right now. I like cats, but my 'thing' is kind of space and planets," he admitted.

"That's cool," Brittany said seeing Lorraine nodding at them and smiling at her out of the corner of her eye.

She let Danny rave on for the next fifteen minutes about space. _It's kind of interesting actually,_ she thought, paying him close attention.

She liked the things he was saying, but mostly she kind of liked that he face lit up every time he stated a new fact. She wondered if her own eyes lit up like that when she talked about the things she liked too.

"You look like someone I know," he said unexpectedly.

"Really?" Brittany asked growing excited. "You know I've heard that everyone on earth has a body double somewhere in the world. Maybe mine is closer to me than I thought she would be."  
_Or maybe the twin that I was supposed to have lived after all, _she thought, her mind blown.

"No, I don't mean anything like that, I meant you remind me of my spirit guide."

Brittany gave him a blank look. "What's that?"

"Her name is Astra. She's my best friend. I can't see her, but I talk to her all the time. She's from another planet, but I think her human form would look a lot like you," he said appraising her. "I have a whole lot of other friends too. There's all the Pokémon in the legendary games and some other people that Astra knows. But, I love Astra best."

"Oh. I used to have friends like that," Brittany admitted. "I used to talk to these colorful, powerful animals that nobody else could see. My 'Astra' was rainbow colored beast with a unicorn horn and magic fleece." She laughed a little. "And, there were others."

"What happened to them all." He seemed genuinely distressed.

_Santana happened_, Brittany thought. _When she showed up, my fantasy life wasn't good enough anymore. I wanted to join the real world to be with her. Well, for most of the time_, she admitted in her head. _I still have fantasies but I don't rely on them like I used to.  
_"Oh, you know," she said out loud, then paused. "I guess I got busy," she finished lamely.

Accepting this, he nodded. "I'm never going to be too busy for Astra. But we could be friends too? I don't have any other human friends."

"I'd like that," Brittany told him.

"That's good." He nodded three more times._ "_A friend is a person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard," He quoted. "We must now have, or be those things."

"Yeah," Brittany choked out, suddenly filled with an almost painful sense of déjà vu. Hadn't she asked Santana what the word 'friend' meant so many times when they were growing up together?

Brittany wasn't sure why she was now suddenly blinking back tears. Maybe she was sad because she knew personally just how long the road was ahead of Danny. Or, maybe she felt like this because she was now on the other side where Santana had been. Danny made her realize how isolating it must have been for Santana to have spent almost every waking and non-waking moment of her childhood, with another kid who wasn't even sure if they were even friends.

Lorraine called the group together to sit down and listen to Kat, who turned out to be a beautiful dark-skinned woman in her thirties with a lot of personality and a fondness for energy drinks.

She talked with her hands and spoke without stammering or going off topic, and within seconds Brittany was won over.  
_Kat is a unicorn. She's smart, she's got it all together and she's independent,_ she thought. _What is her secret? I want to be just like her one day_.

Brittany sat on the other side of the room apart from everyone with a notebook in her hands, and she pretended to take notes. In reality she couldn't even get her pen to move, she was too caught up in what was being said.

Kat's speech today was on ways to get past having sensory issues in the workplace, and half of the terms she used sounded to Brittany like they were in some foreign language.

_Sensory what?_ Brttany thought, hearing the word again. _What the hell is that? And that the hell is 'stimming' or a 'special interest'. _

Brittany pouted, and Kat looked over at her and met her eyes straight on and smiled, halfway through a funny story on some crazy thing she had once said to her boss.

_Well, since I'm gonna be Lorraine's apprentice and working with her clients I better learn what all these things are_, Brittany reasoned to herself. _Maybe I'll pick up some books on this syndrome on the way home_.

By now, everyone was standing up to leave, and on her way out, Kat waved to her, and Brittany saluted her new idol back.

"Hey, Brittany S. Pierce?" Danny asked, having appeared at her side and dragging his feet, clearly not wanting to leave before asking her something.

"Yeah, Danny B. Watson?"

"You're from my planet aren't you," he said struggling to get the words out and say what he meant. "You're a star voyager like me who has travelled all the way to earth. I can feel it."

There was a long pause. "Yeah, Danny, you're right. I am," Brittany finally affirmed. _If he wants to call autistic people 'star voyagers,' then who I am to stop him?_ she thought, taking a deep breath and trying to lift her head up high, and walk to her next class.

* * *

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Kurt asked, nervously. "This can't possibly be a good idea."

"Of course it is! I want to surprise Santana! She always visits me, and I never get to visit her. This is so exciting." Brittany's excited chatter trailed off and became almost unintelligible noises as she ranted and raved on about seeing Santana again.

Kurt put a hand to her mouth, gently silencing her. "No Britt, seriously, do you have the right address? This neighborhood is creeping me out. I wish we'd arrived earlier."

"It's fine," Brittany said shrugging, and looking around at the rundown houses with the slowly peeling paint. There were almost no lights in the street, and the one that was there was letting off an eerie glow. "And I do have the right address. This is where I sent the cupcakes I made her."

"How do you figure this kind of place to be _fine_," Kurt asked, nervously, putting emphasis on the last word.

"Because it's hers," Brittany said honestly, "and I'm sure she's made it a lot nicer on the inside."

"I would have stayed in Lima over this," Kurt mumbled, wondering if getting out a torch and attracting attention to them would be a worse idea than staying in the dark.

"She wanted to get away from her mom, Kurt," Brittany reminded him, "and she couldn't get housing on campus. Or maybe she didn't want it because it had too many rules. This was how it had to be."

"Let me see the address. I don't want to knock on Marty Mc'serial killers's house by mistake."

Brittany's forehead creased and she bit her lip. "You're judging her. Stop judging her," she told him in a hard tone.

"I'm sorry," Kurt apologized. "I'm just trying to protect you but it's coming out wrong. I'm gonna be nothing but nice to Santana."

_Even if I'm still a bit pissed off with her for not being there for you very much lately,_ he thought, looking at her and taking her hand.

Brittany squeezed it back as if to tell him he was forgiven, and then dragged him up the sidewalk to Santana's door.

She went to knock, but instead the door pushed open easily.

_Why didn't she lock her door?_ Brittany wondered. _Doesn't she realize that her stuff could get stolen. I heard of this stuffed animal thief on a news report the other day. He was pilfering stuffed animals from daycares, so that kind of thievery is going around at the moment. And, I'm pretty sure Santana would be extremely pissed if her favorite teddy bear that I gave her years ago got stolen. _

"Wouldn't want to leave any money around," Kurt said, echoing her thoughts in his own way.

They pushed open the door all the way and Brittany saw a guy that she didn't know sitting on Santana's couch. He had long shaggy multicolored hair, and was dressed all in black with an interesting pattern of eye makeup on his face.

Brittany didn't have time to appreciate his hair or his eyeliner. "Who are you, and where is Santana?" Brittany demanded.

He smiled at her, a slow charismatic smile. "Santana's at the club. Are you going? I'm Maz," he said.

"Maybe it's Maz Mc'serial killer," Kurt whispered in her ear. "Be careful."

Brittany nudged him. He was being such a worrier today. This was Santana's home, so it had to be completely safe. _I've always felt safe around Santana_, she reasoned. _Her friends must be safe too. _

She turned back to the strange new guy. He was kind of blinding her with color right now. "What is the_ club_?"

"Newbie, huh?" Maz laughed. He stood up and moved closer to her. "You're pretty cute you know."

"I am not a newbie. I was here in her life long before you. I just don't know about this club," Brittany glared at him. He smelled kind of funny. It was that woodsy kind of smell that she remembered so well. _He's been smoking pot, _she thought, nodding.

His jaw dropped. "You're not _the_ Brittany by any chance are you?"

Brittany stood on her tiptoes to appear larger than him. "Yeah, that's me. And that's Kurt." She pointed to him.

He sat back down disappointed. "Well, then you're off limits. Look, they just left, so they won't be back for ages."

"Then I will go meet her there!" Brittany said excitedly.

"Well, you won't get into Club X dressed like that," Maz said matter-of-factly. "Go upstairs and borrow something of hers and I'll show you where to go."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Brittany had sorted through the pile of clothes on Santana's bed and found something that she thought she could pull off.

_Santana has so many new clothes that I haven't seen_, she thought, stroking her fingers over the new fabrics. _I wonder why she doesn't wear this kind of thing when she visits me. _

From what Brittany could tell, Santana's new look was all about spandex and tight leather, and of all things that laced up. She side-eyed Santana's closet. _And about really short dresses_, she mentally added.

At first, Brittany wondered if they were really hers, but they had to be. They were all her size, and there was a well worn photo of Brittany's own face sticking out of one of the pockets of a jacket on top of what kind of looked like a Barbarella costume.

"Wow," Brittany said to herself trying to hang up a corset that looked expensive. "This is some new wardrobe. I bet she looks so pretty in all these things."

Brittany had chosen to put on a dress that looked kind of like it was inspired by a school uniform. It was so short on her that she was glad that she had tights on underneath.

She twirled around and walked downstairs.

"Much better!" Maz said approvingly.

Kurt looked like he wanted to say something, but instead he just nodded his head. "Let's get this over with," he told her.

It was a short drive to the club, and Brittany was spinning her head almost all the way around to not miss any sights. It wasn't often that she got to be in a different state. She had to admit that there wasn't much to see around here though.

Within minutes they were at the entrance to Club X, trying to sneak their way in.

"Too young," said the guy at the door, looking at Brittany.

"It's just the school uniform, maybe," Brittany offered.

"No, the dress only does you favors. But you're still too young."

"My Santana's in there," Brittany told him, feeling so close yet so far. "I came a long way. Let me in there to see her, please?"

He paused. "You know Santana?"

"Yes. I'm Brittany."

"Shit, you should have told me," he said, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow.

"Let her in, Brik," Maz instructed as he came up behind her having finished parking the car. "And let her friend in too."

"Those two are gay," Kurt whispered in her ear. "My radar is never wrong. And look how close they are standing to each other."

"Oh!" Brittany grinned. "Is this a gay club?" she asked Brik, even though Kurt was making a slashing motion across his neck warning her not to say anything. "I've never been to a gay club before."  
She frowned. "Actually I've never been to any kind of club before."

"Well then, you might as well introduce yourself to night life with the best," Brik told her. "And we do not exactly run a gay club although anyone with any sexual orientation is welcome. People are in to a lot of different things here."

Brittany tried to figure it out. "It's an… open club then? Where people are open to anything?"

"Something like that," Maz cut in with a small smile. "I'm open to many things."  
He looked right at Kurt. "I'm _open_ to either gender, and I'm in an _open_ relationship. Now hurry up sweetheart you're blocking the entrance."

Kurt blushed bright red at the attention, and pulled Brittany inside, hurrying her past the flashing lights at the entrance. Realizing what he was doing, Brittany moved quicker, half closing her eyes. "Don't look at them, Britt," Kurt whispered to her. "I saw what happened to you last time."

"That time wasn't me having epilepsy. Or me practicing my hairography," Brittany whispered back. _It was autism_, she thought.

"Yeah, I know," Kurt said, and Brittany wondered if he could read her thoughts. "We'll go to the bar. You should be all right there. Finding Santana here is going to be like finding a needle in a haystack."

_I shouldn't have let my needle get lost in a haystack_, Brittany thought sadly, sitting down and looking at all the twisting and turning bodies around her. The air here was thick and smoky, and the beat was loud. The few words that Brittany could make out of the song were in another language, but Brittany couldn't place it. _Not Spanish_, she thought, ruling it out.

"Holy shit," Kurt swore, and Brittany followed his gaze to see what he was staring at.

Through an open door, she could just make out a guy shackling a half-naked girl to the wall.

"Well I guess that's the not-so-private couples area," Kurt said, raising an eyebrow.

"Is he hurting her," Brittany asked, alarmed. She stood up. "We should do something?"

Kurt watched the dark haired girl's head roll back in pleasure. "Well, no Britt, I'm pretty sure he's not 'hurting' her. Some people like that stuff."

Brittany squinted. "You're sure he's not hurting the girl? Scout's honor?"

"When did I tell you I was a boy scout? But, yes," Kurt confirmed.

Brittany shrugged and sat back down. "Well if you're really sure that nobody is getting hurt."

She squinted at the scene, and watched another guy suspend his girlfriend from the ceiling as if by some kind of dark magic, then pull out some metallic looking objects of odd shapes. Then, she watched as yet another guy did some kind of complicated rope knotting technique the whole way around a girl's naked body as if for decoration.

"I wonder what that's called," Kurt mused, then pulled out his cell. "Maybe if I look up 'rope bondage,'" he muttered.

"I'm so gonna beat you," Brittany said, turning it into a Google race. Seconds later she had it. "Oh, I've never won a Google race before. It's a Japanese bondage art called Kinbaku."

"Fascinating," Kurt whispered, going a little closer. "Come study it with me? We must do research."

"I can't go any closer, because everybody over there is naked," Brittany told him as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Santana would get jealous."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "And you think she wears a blindfold when she comes here? If she can look so can you," he said, watching a nearby exchange of some suspicious looking substances  
He dropped his head down. "Yes, this is all fascinating, but what am I doing here?" he moaned.

"We're here to see, Santana!" Brittany reminded him again brightly, watching Brik and Maz grind against each other near a woman in a cage. "I think Brik and Maz are kind of a nice couple. Look at how well their colorful hair looks side by side, they look like two gay parrots!"

"Shh, Britt listen," Kurt shushed her, "can you hear what I hear?"

"That egg-based liquor was so fucking disgusting! But we totally convinced some poor fucker to buy all of it anyway," a female voice said.

"Yeah, well actually after we mixed it with other stuff it actually wasn't all that bad," a male voice said back.

_Santana!_ Brittany thought tuning into the conversation, whipping her head up and trying to follow the source of her voice.

"I'm taking a break, Spinner," Santana said to a guy with flaming dyed-red hair.

Brittany blinked. Everyone had awesome hair here. "Santana!" she called out. "Santana!"

Santana kept talking to Spinner, clearly not hearing her. "It's kind of slow here for once, and I be's going to flirts some rich saps out of their money."

_So I look in your direction,__  
__But you pay me no attention, do you?_

She scanned the crowd as if she was looking for a potential victim, looking everywhere but in Brittany's direction. A Coldplay song was playing, which seemed way out of step with the heavy metal which had been blasting, but Brittany figured the grumpy looking DJ must have a soft spot somewhere.

"Surprise!" Brittany said jumping directly in front of her.

Santana paled as if she had seen a ghost. "Brittany? Brittany. Britt. Where the fuck did you come from? How much did you hear? How long have you been here? How the hell did you even find me? Oh my god. Britt!"

She moved forward and hugged the blonde close, feeling her melt into the embrace happily, as if it had been all she ever wanted.

"I missed you so much!" Brittany told her, moving to kiss her.

Still in a daze, Santana let her, her lips already slightly parted. "You shouldn't be here," she said, shaking her head and looking around nervously. "This isn't your scene. Why are you wearing my dress? God, Britt you stick out here like a sore thumb, and don't even let me get started on Kurt."

"It's an 'open club' where I can totally kiss you," Brittany said happily. "It's the best scene ever."

Santana moved her face away. "No, you can't really kiss me here, Britt. This is bad for business. The people here don't really like to see me here with someone, they prefer to think of me as attainable. It makes money fall out of their wallet faster."

_I know you don't __listen __to me.__  
__'cause you say you see straight through me, don't you?_

"I don't really understand what you're talking about. What do you mean _bad_ for business?" Brittany asked.

"Woah, ok," Kurt said stepping in. "Britt I'm gonna leave you to this one for a while, and go and get something to eat. I'll be around, just text me if you need me."

Brittany nodded and thanked him hugging him goodbye, then turned back to Santana.

"Please understand," Santana begged when he had walked a safe distance away. "It's just flirting."  
_Mostly_, she thought, blocking out a few memories she didn't want to think of right now. "I just, dress up nice, make them drinks, dance a little and make them feel special and that buys me everything I need."

"Oh." Brittany nodded. Some things make sense now. "That's what all the clothes were for. I thought it was your new look."  
She looked Santana up and down and touched the black mini dress she was wearing.

_And on and on from the moment I wake,__  
__To the moment I sleep,__  
__I'll be there by your side,__  
__Just you try and stop me._

"It kind of is, but it isn't," Santana muttered mysteriously. "I'm kind of glad you saw me toned down tonight. You should see me in my Barbarella costume on theme nights."

"Oh the space suit? I have a new friend named Danny. He would totally love it."

_A new friend? A pervert guy friend?_ Santana's body almost shuddered. She hated it when Brittany reminded her that her life had gone on without her these past few years. She almost wished that Brittany could just stay exactly the way she left her. And what if this 'Danny' guy was trying to get with her? "Who the fuck is he anyway?" Santana grumbled.  
"Britt, sit down I'll get you a drink. What do you want?"

"I don't know. Something that you like. Whatever he's had," she pointed to a guy slumped over beside her. "He obviously liked it."

Santana chuckled. "You wouldn't like what I drink these days, it would be too strong for you. And as for him, that's Eddi, he's been drinking up our whole supply of that freakin' egg based liquor I've been trying to get rid of for weeks, just cause tonight I mixed it with something a little bit more appealing."

"Drink responsibly, Eddi," Brittany told the guy, peering at him and putting her face down to his level where it was squished against the bar. "Why is your hair not pretty colors like everyone else here?" she asked him, getting no response.

Santana paused, not sure right now if she wanted to smile or cry. After a beat she decided that mixing drinks and keeping her hands busy seemed a better option than both.

"I'll make you something as colorful as Brik's hair. You'll like that," she said softly, trying to ignore the way Brittany was staring at her. "I'm not that interesting Britt," she told her.

"Yeah you are. You're good at that drink making stuff," Brittany told her watching Santana's hands expertly pouring and mixing.

_I'll be waiting in line,__  
__Just to see if you care._

Santana shrugged.

"This is your job now?" Brittany asked tentatively, unsure if Santana wanted to talk about it.

"Sort of," Santana agreed. "I don't exactly get paid for the bar tending, but I get… benefits. And I get to keep all my tips, and money is practically just thrown at me so I do all right."

"That's good," Brittany said catching the drink as it was slid across to her, and focusing on the part where Santana said 'I do all right.'  
"What about all that stuff over there?" She pointed to the 'couples area.' "Do you do that stuff too?"

"A little bit so far," Santana frowned. "I've done the-" A sudden cheer from the crowd cut her off.

"What?" Brittany asked looking around to see what everyone was cheering for. Some guy with some interesting facial piercings was doing a show and swallowing up knives. Brittany's eyes goggled and she looked at his body, expecting to see knives sticking out of it. _He must be a wizard_, she thought.

"The cross. See that big thing over there with the restraints."

Brittany turned her attention where she was pointing. "It doesn't hurt right?" She pulled the hand Santana was pointing with down, and held it.

"Only in the way that I deserve," Santana mumbled. "When I'm high I kind of like it."

Brittany's insides suddenly felt too tight inside her body, and the room with all the noisy people in it felt too hot. She wanted to accept Santana's new life. She didn't want to be like all the other people that rejected her for the things she did, but by now she could tell when Santana was getting into something that wasn't good for her. _It's not about what she's doing,_ Brittany thought. _This stuff is new to me, but I think for a lot of people it could be good, and just another way that people have sex, or be sexy._

She studied Santana's face._ It's just, this could be used in either a good or bad way, and I don't want her to use it be destructive and hate on herself, _she realized feeling her stomach drop. _Because I know she would totally do that. _

Santana saw something in her face. "Britt don't-"

"Can I have one of those little umbrella things to go in my drink?" _So much for being brave and trying to confront her_, Brittany thought. _Would she even listen to me anyway?_

Santana blinked. "I don't think we have those Britt, but I'll put it down on our list of much needed supplies. I'm gonna have to leave you for a bit now, but in maybe an hour I can get off here and go home. Puck will drive us. You've got to let go of me now, Britt."

Brittany unwillingly agreed to let go of her hand, holding on to the last possible second and sliding her fingers down to clutch the tip of Santana's index finger before letting go.

_Don't you Shiver?__  
__Shiver._

* * *

"Why are people following us?" Brittany asked, seeing several cars tail their car, and some small dots in the distance that looked like a crowd of people following on foot. "Are they your friends?"

"A couple of them are I guess. Most I don't really know. Everyone just kind of hangs out at my place," Santana said, shrugging. "I swear half of them don't even have homes. I don't care. It's easier to find whoever owes me something when they're in the next room."

Brittany thought about how she'd had a hard enough time adjusting to her ex-roommate and four best friends being over all the time when she'd lived in shared accommodation. _This_ massive crowd would be something else. Some were walking, and some were kind of staggering after their car, somehow getting closer. She peered out the window. The sight almost reminded her of one of those zombie movies where they just kept on coming no matter how fast the main characters sped through the streets. She shivered and addressed Santana. "Well, you never really liked being by yourself, I can understand you wanting lots of people around."

Santana shrugged again. "Yeah, I hate being left alone with my own thoughts. But, to tell you the truth, Britt, we may all be in the same space, but we're all kind of apart and doing our own thing anyway. You know what I mean, don't you?"

Brittany didn't. _There's a lot of things im not understanding tonight_, she thought, rubbing her arms for warmth.

Santana noticed. "You cold Britt? I'd give you my jacket if I had one," she told her, pulling at her mini dress "We're nearly there. You look a little out of it. How many drinks did you have?"

"Not as many as Eddi," Brittany told her sincerely, "but probably more than I should have had. You were kind of gone a long time."

"Well, excuse me for having a life," Santana snapped. "That place doesn't run itself. And I ran into a friend in the bathroom. She took some convincing to give me back what she owed me." She fingered the container in her purse.

Brittany turned away and looked out of the window. Santana softened and put her hand on the other girl's arm, rubbing it gently up and down until Brittany looked back at her and smiled.

_I think the zombies beat us,_ Brittany thought. She could have sworn the people now standing at the front of the house had been the same ones staggering after the car just before. _That's just how zombie movies go though_, she reminded herself._ Just when you think you've lost them, they show up and the freaky music swells with a bang._ She punched her fist into her other hand.

Santana looked at her amused and got out of the car. "I have no idea what's going on in your head right now, Britt, but I hope you'll tell me later. I have to go make an appearance here."

"Santana…" Brittany reached out to stop her. "Wait…what's wrong?"  
She had noticed that Santana had been off and kind of moody ever since she had got into the car. "Something is wrong. Was the girl who owed you something mean to you?"

"Nothing is wrong, Britt. I just took something, that's all. I always do it right when I leave the club so it kicks in by the time I get home. It's bugging me 'cause it sure is taking its sweet time to kick in tonight."

"But, what for?" Brittany said aloud, watching Santana's retreating back disappear inside. "I'm here. You never used to take anything when you were with me. Why?"

_I'll always be waiting for you,__  
__So you know how much I need you,__  
__But you never even see me, do you?__  
__And is this my final chance of getting you?_

* * *

"I think I'm dying," a girl moaned, clutching hold of Brittany the minute she stepped inside.

"I think you've mistaken me for someone else," Brittany said, trying to pry the girl's arms from around her. She definitely didn't look like she was dying. Brittany wondered where the knife-eating-guy was._ If anyone died tonight, my money would be on it being him, wizard or not,_ she thought to herself.

"Don't leave me," the girl said desperately.

"I don't even know your name!" Brittany said, staring at her face. She was pretty, with short blonde hair. _She's probably only a little older than me_, Brittany thought.

"That's Angel," a tall stick-thin guy said, walking by. "She's having a bad trip. Look after her for us for a while will you?"

Brittany nodded slowly and sat down. Angel immediately tried to cling to her and get as close as possible.

"You're not Santana," Brittany mumbled hating every minute of this and feeling a strong urge to push the girl away. "You're so close and I don't know you," she complained, wriggling away from the girl's arms but letting her keep her head in her lap.

"I'm scared," Angel said, starting to cry.

"Hey, hey it's okay," Brittany promised, resigning herself to having to take care of her. "What's a bad trip anyway. Did your car break down on the way here?"

"No, Brittany," Maz said, overhearing. "LSD. This is what a bad trip on LSD looks like."

Brittany gave him a blank look. The only thing words she could come up with for that acronym was **l**ive**s**tock **d**ucks. She wrinkled her forehead. The word did ring a bell, maybe Santana had talked about it once.

"Blotters," he confirmed. "You want one? I think I've got some artsy ones with Rocky Horror lips. You just put it on your tongue and let it dissolve. You'd go for a wild ride, 'cause you're already kind of kooky as it is."

"Santana was 'the lips' in our high school Rocky Horror production," Brittany told him.

"Say what?"

"Santana sung Science Fiction/Double Feature on stage. She was awesome."

"Santana sings?" Maz laughed. "She never told me."

"And dances," Brittany added, hugging Angel who was whining pitifully.

"Well, duh I know that. I see her dance every other night."

Brittany bit her lip. She wasn't completely sure if that kind of dancing was what Santana had always dreamed of.

Maz looked down at her and rolled his eyes. "Now do you want a blotter or not?"

Brittany shook her head. "Did Santana take one?" she asked, staring at the girl in her lap who was now trying to pull her own hair out.

Maz shook his head. "Not today. She doesn't like them all that much, they're more Angel here's thing."  
He noticed Brittany wasn't looking at Angel. He followed her gaze and saw Santana, the lady of the house greeting all the guests with a hug and a kiss.  
"She just takes an X so she can do that."

"Do what?" Brittany asked exasperated, trying to hold Angel's arms down so she couldn't pull out any more hair. "It's going to be okay," she promised her.

"So she can be nice!" Maz laughed. "That's what she told me. And right she is, she's a total Class A bitch without them."

"I can't see!" Angel cried. "I can't see anything. My eyes don't work."

Brittany struggled keeping up with both conversations. "Santana's not a bitch," she said to Maz, leveling him with a fierce glare. "Angel let me up, so I can teach him a lesson, I want to at least pinch him or something."

"Nooooo!" Angel shrieked.

"I didn't mean no harm, kid," Maz tried to sooth her. "Here, you go find Santana, I'll look after Angel for you. Is she your friend?"

"I guess she is now," Brittany agreed. "But we only met half an hour ago. I'll check on you later, Angel," she promised, before dashing up the stairs past some guy staring at his own hands, and trying to ignore another guy who was throwing up in one of Santana's trashcans.

_Yeah I'll always be waiting for you._

* * *

After her second try of circling the whole house, Brittany found Kurt.

"Britt!" he said grabbing at her. "This place is like circus, everyone is bouncing off the walls. Do you think it's like this every night?"

"Maybe. Probably." Brittany tried to make her face impassive..

"You're allowed to have feelings about this, Britt," Kurt told her.

"I just don't feel like I can talk to her when she's like this," Brittany muttered.

"We can stay til tomorrow," Kurt promised her. "Then we are so out of here. Hey, you know this is the first party where I've seen you actually manage to keep your clothes on?" he joked.

Brittany gave him a half smile. "I drank responsibly this time, I think. But now you mention it this dress has kind of been itchy and bothering me." She grinned at him and went to pull down the zipper.

"That wasn't an invitation Britt!"

"I was only kidding," she assured him. "I feel a little lightheaded but I still know what I'm doing right now. I still know that clothes are important."

"Yeah, well you're about the only one that thinks so here," Kurt said pointing to a scene. "Do you think that girl over there is 'with it' enough to know that there are five guys making out with her right now?"

"She seems kind of into it?" Brittany's voice rose up at the end in question.

"You're right," Kurt agreed, "and she's aware enough to be taking out her cell and taking a couple of selfies to decorate her Facebook. Look she's even doing the duckface."

"Santana's duck faces are better," Brittany mumbled. "She uses edible props, like a Pringles beak. But for some reason she won't let me put those photos on her Facebook."

"Yes, for some reason," Kurt echoed, wryly, turning away when one of the guys decided duckface girl should be blindfolded. He adjusted Brittany's clothes for her slightly, pulling the zipper tighter. "I am sincerely glad that girl over there isn't you," he mumbled to her.

"Why would you say that?"

"Because unlike her, you wouldn't like it, and I can easily see you getting taken advantage of if you lived here. All it would take is a few drinks and your natural dislike of clothes to show itself. You get kind of confused when you drink, and you might not even notice those vultures on you."

"The vultures in the jungle book were nice. They were Mowgli's friends."  
Brittany did a few steps of the vulture dance. She had always liked it.

Kurt watched her. "Yeah, Britt I think you've just proved my point. You can't just think the best of people." He paused.

"Besides, Mowgli only hung out with the vulture crowd when he was already down and out on his luck, and feeling like he didn't have anyone else. Maybe this girl is feeling a bit desperate too." He watched the blindfolded girl feel around, dropping her hand lower when she misjudged what she was looking for.

Brittany crossed her arms. "Or maybe it's just what she likes."

"Look Britt, I'm just trying to be the voice of reason here. Santana is-"

"And I'm just trying to love my girl, no matter what she does," Brittany said back, interrupting him. "I have to accept her, no matter what. You always want to judge her."

"I don't judge her... that much. I just don't want you to get stuck in a bad situation here. And we've been through this before many times, Brittany. You can accept her without accepting what she does."

"Yeah," Brittany said slowly.

Kurt sighed. "Britt, some of the things I've seen tonight I think could still be part of a healthy lifestyle, others not so much. But I think that we both know that when it comes to Santana doing these things, this is her being self destructive. We both know that no matter how many times she says it's awesome, she doesn't always say what she means. You've got to learn that one Britt."

"People don't always say what they mean," Brittany repeated.

"Speak of the devil," Kurt interrupted her.

"Mmm, Britt," Santana said meeting her halfway on the stairs with a smile, and wrapping her arms around her. "Hey baby I've been looking for you. You look so gorgeous wearing my clothes, seriously you're turning me on so bad."

"Oh my god, Santana, you can barely stand. Lean against me," Brittany said surprised, pulling her close and taking the drink she was holding from her hands.

"I got you that drink. It's magic. I put fairy dust in it. That's why it's pink."

"You… did?" Brittany asked skeptically.

"No," Santana laughed. "But try it, you'll like it."

"Okay," Brittany agreed, sipping it slowly at first, and then faster when she realized how good it tasted. "You're right, this _is_ magic."

When she was done, Santana tossed the drink to some guy behind them and moved two steps above her on the stairs so she was now taller. She put her arms around Brittany's neck, swaying them slowly, and every now and then she clutched at parts of her affectionately. "My beautiful, smart Brittany," she cooed in her ear, biting her in little places around her neck.

Brittany's head tipped back. "Santana," she whispered, smiling at her and getting lost in the moment.

"Don't you like me better this way?" Santana asked her, without giving an explanation as to what she meant.

_Soy un perdedor. __I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?_

Brittany heard her loud and clear. "No Santana I don't like you better on illegal substances," she whispered.  
"I just really love you," she got out, as Santana began scratching up her arms lightly, trailing after them with kisses.

"Mmm… this is so perfect," Santana said decidedly, and started pulling on Brittany's clothes.

"Hey," Brittany said half-heartedly, "I worked really hard to keep these on. You don't want Kurt to be the only person here with clothes on, do you?"

Santana made a strange clicking sound with her tongue. "Fuck if I care about that," she laughed tangling her fingers freely through Brittany's hair.

Brittany gave in and started kissing her back, gently at first then harder, with more need.

Santana kept talking in between kisses. "You're never. Going home. Hell, you never go home anyway. You just go. To some stupid. Place in Lima. All the time. You should be with me. I love you."

"I love you too, Santana," Brittany said breathlessly, "I love you too."

Santana paused and went quiet. "I probably have to go to the bathroom," she announced.

"Probably?" Brittany questioned.

"It's hard to be sure," Santana said leaning against her. "Who knows?" she laughed.

"It's not calculus, San," Brittany laughed with her, then put her arm around Santana, half carrying her up the stairs. "I'll wait outside."

"Fuck no. Please come in? You've seen my body like a billion times anyway, you've probably memorized it"

Brittany shrugged. "Probably," she agreed giving nothing away. She grabbed at Santana again when she saw her stumble, and walked in with her.

"I'm fine," Santana told her, shaking herself free and fumbling around until she was hanging on to the wall, losing her balance a couple of times and regaining it as fast as she could.

_Soy un perdedor. __I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?_

"San, hey, let me help you," Brittany offered. "The toilet is over there."

"I know my way around my own bathroom," Santana snapped. "It's just this stupid light. It moves every time. I swear to god I'm gonna call our fucking landlord and have him fix this thing. It's like I'm playing Puck's shooting games and trying to hit those goddamn moving targets."

"Santana the light is here," Brittany said.

"Well turn it off then. It's too bright."

"It's not on," Brittany said, confused. "We're practically in the dark The only light is coming in from another room."

"What?" Santana laughed, feeling it bubble out of her chest. "That's so funny."

"Yeah, it's a little funny," Brittany agreed.

"Very funny," Santana knelt down on the ground, laughing hysterically like she would never stop.

Brittany stared at her. "San, you're totally replaying something you saw on Family Guy in your head, right?"

Santana clutched at her stomach. "That's not that funny. This is funnier than that."

Shaking her head and wanting a reason for this moment to seem more normal, Brittany sat down beside her. "I'll tell you a joke, San?"  
_Then when you keep on laughing it will just feel like it's because of that,_ Brittany comforted herself, looking into her eyes. Santana's pupils were huge.

"Tell away!" Santana gasped out.

"I only know duck jokes," Brittany said. "Um. So this guy walks into a doctor's office with this big white duck on his head, and the doctor looks up and says 'yes, sir, can I help you?' and the duck says 'yeah, can you get this guy off my butt?'"

By this point, Santana couldn't speak, she could only wave her hand at Brittany as if to tell her to keep going.

"You want another one? Okay. Um. There were two ducks in the pond. One says 'quack!'"

"And then what happened?" Santana demanded.

"The other duck says 'oh my god! I was just about to say that!'"

"Hah!" Santana exclaimed and Brittany finally got into it, giggling with her.

"Wait, hang on Britt I got one, I got one," Santana said grabbing at Brittany and sliding herself closer. "It's a bit dirty can you handle that?"

"Santana, since when have your jokes been anything but dirty, and since when have you ever asked me if I could handle them."

"You're right," Santana wheezed. "You're right. Um, okay, I've been saving this one. There's these two ducks and they've just got married. They're waddling around the honeymoon suite of their hotel looking fucking disgusting in love and then they go to bed and start getting into it."

"Oooh!" Brittany squealed. "That is so romantic. Were the ducks cuddling?"

"Um yeah. But they wanted to fuck. So the wife duck says to the husband duck 'did you remember the condoms?' and the husband duck says he forgot. Men, right?" Santana rolled her eyes.

"Men," Brittany echoed.

"Yeah, so the wife duck tells him to call room service and see if they have any. So the husband duck calls and asks the operator to bring some straight up."

"Yeah?" Brittany was kneeling now, leaning so far over that she looked like she was going to face plant any second, gleefully anticipating the punch line.

"So the operator says 'shall I put them on your bill' and the husband duck replies 'no! I'll suffocate.'"

Brittany looked at her for a couple of seconds, and Santana stared back waiting for her to get it.

"Hahaha!" they howled at the same time, both bursting into another wave of fresh giggles. Santana fell backwards and found herself looking at the ceiling. "Laughing is fun, but I really have to pee," she said, trying to get back up again and failing.

"Hey, San, wait I'll help you," Brittany said lifting her to her feet.

"Not wearing much on these kind of nights is so much simpler," Santana told her as Brittany pulled her panties down.

_Soy un perdedor. __I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?_

"I can imagine," Brittany told her, the heavy feeling in her heart returning. "Okay. Take three steps backwards. One. Two. Santana those are mouse steps! You're going to have to take like ten if you do it like that. Three. Woah, I didn't expect you to suddenly do the opposite and become a cheetah, that wasn't a step that was a super leap. Okay, now sit down and do your thing."

"I can't, I forget how," Santana muttered. "Britt, don't go anywhere. Don't move, stay there."

"I'm not going anywhere. But don't you want me to turn around?"

"Nope. I don't care. Just stay."

"Okay," Brittany said, then started humming a tune and making shapes with her hands when nothing happened for a couple of minutes.

"I seriously just forget how," Santana told her, her frustration plain.

Brittany got up. "I'll turn the water on," she told her.

"Thanks," Santana said gratefully.

"Is it working?" Brittany asked.

"Yep!" Santana started giggling again, but Brittany didn't join her.

"Santana, is your life like this every night," Brittany asked.

"No, on some nights I clear everyone out, and lock the door so I can study."

"Really?" Brittany asked.

"Yep," Santana said finishing, and then reaching out for Brittany who helped her get to the basin to wash her hands.

Before she could turn off the tap she started coughing, loud hacking coughs that shook her body.

Seeing the white porecelin become spotted with black marks before Santana could wash it away, Brittany panicked.

"Santana … oh my god what's wrong? You're coughing up black stuff? What is this? Should I call an ambulance?"

Santana kept coughing and Brittany looked on horrified, wondering if Santana's body was dying from the inside out and she was coughing up the remains. She rubbed Santana's back, feeling a hand latch onto her dress in response.

"I'm fine, Britt," Santana said when she was done. "Seriously. It's just tar."

Brittany wrinkled up her forehead. "What?"

"It gets in your lungs when you smoke pot. It's not even harmful. Well, not half as harmful as nicotine, because at least weed is natural. It's just a little gross sometimes."

Brittany looked unconvinced.

"Stop looking at me like you think I'm a loser," Santana said in between a few final coughs.

"I'm not," Brittany insisted. "You're the only one calling yourself that. It's just, you're scaring me a bit. You've been scaring me all night," she confessed.

"Brittany I just told you that pot doesn't hurt me. And if you're talking about X, well, it's not like I actually need it. I can stop anytime, and I do when I can't get my hands on some, or when I have to go to classes. I just take it when I need a break from being myself. Everyone has their something, this is just mine."

"You never used to need drugs to be with me, Santana," Brittany said, near tears. "When you visit me, you leave all this stuff behind."

"And I still don't need them to be with you!" Santana said, adamantly. "Aren't you listening to me? I've had this night planned all week. It's not my fault you showed up in _my_ life unannounced. If I'd known you were coming I might have done things differently. But, guess what, I didn't, so you got a taste of _my_ world. It's not my fault that you don't fit into it!"

Brittany's tears fell now, and she didn't bother to wipe them away.

Santana covered her mouth. "Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."

"Yeah you did," Brittany said softly. "I'm gonna go to bed now. That is, if I can find a place without people in it to lie down. Good night."

"Britt, wait."

Brittany shook her head. "No, Santana not this time. See you tomorrow."

She didn't look back to see Santana's face, because she knew that if she did she wouldn't be able to walk away. _I've never usually me who walks away from her_, she thought. _She's always been the one who walks away from me. _She paused_. I think this feels worse. _

Santana trailed her hands up and down the wall, and then fell back and leaned against it. "You're right, I did mean it," she said to the empty room. "You don't fit into my life anymore, Britt. But that's kind of a compliment." She lowered her head.

_Soy un perdedor. __I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?_

* * *

The next morning, Brittany was awakened by the sound of Santana throwing up in the bathroom adjacent to the room she had chosen to sleep in.

She uncurled herself from her ball-like sleeping position, and struggled out from under a blanket, holding it briefly and wondering who had given it to her, and tucked her in during the night. She kind of hoped it had been Santana.

Barefoot, she padded to the bathroom in search of her, trying not to trip on any bodies that were randomly blocking the way. _They aren't zombies_, she thought, reminding herself to be extra careful not to step on any fingers. _They are still alive, just sleeping, or maybe passed out. _

Santana only had to hear her footsteps to know who it was. "I'm sorry," she said to her, still bent over the toilet. "Don't go. Please."

Brittany said nothing but found she wasn't angry with her, just sad. She stopped still and made an effort to quit the nervous shuffling of her feet so Santana knew she wasn't going to walk out.

"You're never coming back here are you?" Santana said miserably when she was done. She flushed the toilet. "You must think I'm a total loser. I don't blame you. I didn't even take you anywhere nice."

"I promised you years ago now that I'd never leave you," Brittany told her, sitting down close to her and rubbing her back. "And I don't make promises to losers."

_If you wait for me  
then I'll come for you  
Although I've traveled far  
I always hold a place for you in my heart_

Santana tried to smile, but ended up groaning and putting a hand to her head.

"You have a headache?" Brittany asked, brushing Santana's hair from her face, gathering the rest of it behind her back. She tried to cheer her up. "You know, I'm not even worried about not seeing that much of the city, 'cause you have a really nice bathroom," she told her. "I really like the fishy shower curtain."

"I bought that for you," Santana told her. "I knew you'd like it. And, for some reason we always end up in the bathroom together."

"Oh, yeah, but not always to pee, sometimes it's about taking baths together, and vaginas," Brittany reminded her.

"Oh, yeah, I nearly forgot," Santana teased her.

"Yeah," Brittany tried to smile back, but Santana couldn't help but notice it didn't meet her eyes.

"I swear to god it's not like this all the time," Santana said, leaning back slightly. "I keep my grades up and all that shit, and I'm not one of those no-hopers sitting in the gutter who has spent their last dollar on a high. I don't even pay for it most of the time."

"You get it from people at that club?"

"Yeah, and I don't even care when I can't get any. I can stop. Just like that. I don't have a problem."

She bent back over the toilet as a second wave of nausea hit her. Brittany found her hand and squeezed it.

"The room is spinning," Santana whispered, letting Brittany guide her head down into her lap. "It's not usually like this. Usually I can just wake up and take a walk."

For a moment they rested together, and Brittany found a rhythm combing her fingers through Santana's hair, occasionally pausing to rub her thumb over her forehead when Santana closed her eyes.

"I just take that stuff when I want to be myself," Santana whispered, pressing her forehead closer to Brittany's stomach. "It takes away whatever fucks with my head and screws things up. It makes me nice, and kind and loving. When I take them I even want to be with Puck. The drug keeps me in sight."

Brittany's hand stilled. "Santana last night… that wasn't you. If I thought it was, then maybe I'd be more okay with this, but that wasn't really you."

"Okay, maybe you're right. But it's who I want to be," Santana told her desperately.

There was a silence. Santana anxiously picked at a scab on her finger before Brittany finally pulled her hands away.

Remember when you did ballet with me, San? she asked randomly, feeling the other girl intertwine their hands together and then use them to cover her own eyes.

"Ugh yeah, I'd nearly blocked that one out. That was torture. You know, when it came to stuff I actually wanted to do, my mom usually took me to one class or lesson, but then forgot to ever take me back. Why did ballet have to be the one thing that stuck?"

Brittany smirked at her. "San, you big liar, I know you loved it, and it was actually my mom that took both of us for a little while, remember? She took you and even paid for you 'cause I wouldn't go by myself 'cause the other kids were being mean to me."

"Oh yeah. I set them straight."

"You totally did," Brittany agreed. "You remember that one recital when we left our line and started doing our own made-up dance to Swan Lake?"

"Yeah, I think I knocked out someone's tooth that tried to stop us."

"Yep, and then you kept it and gave it to me and I totally managed to fool the tooth fairy into paying up for a stolen tooth, and we split the money around the corner like criminals."

Santana smiled and squeezed their hands together.

Brittany paused. "That was you Santana. That's was you, barely four feet tall, in a little black tutu doing your own thing, protecting who you cared about, and not letting anyone stand in your way."

Santana looked up at her. "I was pretty mean."

"You were honest," Brittany chuckled, "to them, and to yourself. And yeah, every now and then you were mean, but they all did kind of suck."

"Yeah, they kind of did," Santana agreed, then paused. "You know, I actually liked myself back then," she said, remembering. "It was before everyone left."

"And before the wrong people came to fill the empty space," Brittany added. _The space I couldn't fill all of_, Brittany thought.

"Yeah, before all that. Britt the people you met last night aren't like Tomas and Ben, and those people of the past, they are pretty good to me, most of the time."

"Okay," Brittany said nodding at her. "That's good."

Santana looked at her. "You know I wasn't sure in the old days how much you actually understood out of what I was telling you, about the things I did, about the people I was seeing. You know, with the 'wrong' people."

"Enough to understand that you were hurting," Brittany said softly. "But not much more. Things are a little bit clearer now."

"Is everything clear enough in your head for you to tell me how everything got so fucked up, and why?" Santana asked her, "because I wish I knew."

Brittany's tone was gentle. "I don't know. But I'll work on it, maybe I'll write some things down, and if I figure out any answers then I'll let you know."

"You could visit me again, and we could sit under the fishy shower curtain some more, and we could talk about the past 'til things are clearer in your head and we find out more answers. We could do it 'til we run out of talking, and answers," Santana said hopefully.

"We will," Brittany assured her. "But what I already do know now is that you don't need to be on X to _be_ somebody. You've always been somebody to me. And you're somebody I will always come back to, I promise," she said kissing her forehead one last time.

_If you think of me  
If you miss me once in awhile  
Then I'll return to you  
I'll return and fill that space in your heart._

* * *

**More things:**

**1. My songs were 'Shiver' – Colplay and later 'The Promise' – Tracy Chapman. Santana's song was 'Loser' – Beck.  
I actually could tie a couple of little things in this chapter to the Glee episode "Lights Out" which was nice. **

**2. In the beginning we met (Miss) Lorraine, Kat, and the phenomenon that is Danny B. Watson. I introduced them here, but their main role is in the next chapter.  
****I wasn't really going to include them, because it's not Brittana, but I guess it's important that we see what Brittany did on her own, and I pretty much covered what Santana had been doing on her own in this chapter.**

**3. Brittany met some of Santana's new friends, all with colorful hair and alias's like Freak, Scorch, Destruction, Misery and Sinner to name some that I can remember off the top of my head. They all talked about Santana like she had some kind of power of them, and several of them knew who I was before I introduced myself. Santana herself used an alias that sounded very much like Snix. If I had chosen my own alias it would have been Peanut Allergy or The Human Brain. Just kidding. I should have gone with Nightmare Moon, like the evil My Little Pony. **

**4. Those people were into more unconventional sexual practices like BDSM, and while I never wanted to join in personally, I don't see that different kind of eroticism as a bad thing. But like anything, it can be used correctly, or abused, and my Santana abused it. You either enjoy that kind of thing, or it's not for you, and Santana never enjoyed any of it, she was more about getting people to hurt her to be self destructive.  
****Both Kurt and I knew right away that she would do that, and sure enough she did. I did see a couple of things go on that I just can't write about here.**

**5. There was also a lot of drug use surrounding that place, which was probably the reason I ended up seeing some crazy messed up things.  
****I think I was in denial about the seriousness of Santana's own drug use. For her, it was marijuana to help her relax, ecstasy to be the life of the party, and ADD medication to keep up with her presentations and midterms, and a lot of alcohol in between.  
****She didn't think that she was much good without all that. And she must have told me a million times that she could stop anytime so it didn't matter.  
****But, when she would come and visit me, there would be absolutely no sign of those substances, she would drop them just like that and not even seem to miss them.  
****Coming into her world 'down the rabbit hole' changed that.**

**6. Santana was always open in the 'mornings after.' I have no idea what made her so open, but I loved those mornings. I only wrote about the first time, but it continued on. We'd just sit together and talk about everything, trying to come to terms with a lot of things together. It was then that I learned a lot of what I included in this story. She helped me understand the past, and how it was from her perspective. I've since found more answers that I wasn't even looking for though writing it down, just like I said to her that I would. **

**Thanks for listening, and I do hope to have the next one up really soon. **


	24. Child Within My Heart

**captncay**** - I'm so glad that this story helped you to better understand your nephew's creativity! That's a great thing, and I bet he has a lot of potential :)**

**ChaosRocket**** - I never took Season 4 that seriously to be honest! I enjoyed some of it, and there were some good moments, but it felt kind of forgettable, and different to the other seasons. I'll keep watching, even if just to catch sight of Lord Tubbington (I hope his contract hasn't run out :p) but I think some things in that show could have been done better. I mean, Brittany a math genius? I'm down with her being kind of a savant (I've been called that too), but I think they could have improved on the writing for that scene. **

**hlnwst**** - Haha I would love a nickname from you! I would treasure it :)  
****I guess I don't want to dream too much about publishing (this story) because without Santana's permission I can't. It would be only when/if she could handle it, and when she's ready. And if she never became ready then I'd have to be ok with that because her feelings are more important.  
****Also I should probably take a writing class, lol. This story taught me how to write, but I'm sure I have a lot to learn still. Every time I look back at earlier chapters (mostly from 1-10), I realize that I can now write things better than what's on the page, so I often go back and reword a paragraph or two.  
****Oh! And this chapter here talks a bit more about Brittany's psychology interest, but I probably shouldn't say any more and give away the ending :p  
****Anyway, thank you so much as always for treating me like a real writer :) When I talk to you I really feel like one ;p**

**castlewalls7**** - Thank you for sharing your memories :) It was great to read which parts you related to, and hear your personal stories. I'm sorry about the difficult things in life you've had to face, and I am glad you came out stronger. Thank ****you for reading.**

**broken-timemachine**** - I love that you pointed that out, that though time passed and physical distance grew, Santana and Brittany still had that strong root of love that kind of anchored them to each other so they could come together time and time again. I really hope it's always like that. Thank you for reading :) **

**Miara848- Firstly, I hope you found your cat! I've been sending positive thoughts to you all week, I wish I could have sent out a search party, like the twilight bark in 101 Dalmatians, only with cats. About my mom and Santana – their relationship is kind of a sad story. When we were little, Santana actually kind of shared my mom. She used to take both of us to ballet and make sure she was fed, but probably the most important thing to Santana then, was how my mom used to treat her as her equal, and place responsibilities on her when it came to looking out for me. That was so important to her.  
After the dance incident my mom rejected her like they had never been close. It's the one thing I've never forgiven my mom for, for being another adult that let Santana down and made her feel like she wasn't worth anything.  
My mom's disapproval never let up, it just got worse the more she saw Santana do over the years. The only really bad fights I've ever had with my mom have pretty much all come out of me defending Santana, because some comments my mom makes about her just give me rage blackouts.  
****And, as for story-ception, now you mention it, I think I might actually do that, that's a really good idea! :) I won't mention fanfiction though, I think I might just have Brittany write her novel and post it online chapter by chapter. Doing that will explain a lot, so thank you for the idea :)  
****And awesome songs! I'll definitely add those to my soundtrack, and I hope you enjoyed the story's birthday pie! I can't I've been at this an entire year now, but when it's over I will miss you a lot too! You've been a good friend to me, and you'll be my missing rainbow colored stripey toesock cause we all know how adorable they are :) *big hugs to you*  
****- The Mother Of All Unicorns (sorry, I had to sign it like that :p)**

**Puff614**** – I'm glad that college is less crazy! I've been writing all the chapters hugging my unicorn pillow pet, lol.  
****You have a wonderful ability for empathy, and being able to walk in other people's shoes. Like you said, it really was lonely for Brittany, having nothing in common with that crowd of people except for Santana, yet trying to fit in. It doesn't fit anywhere in the story, but Brittany actually did learn the hard way to listen more to Kurt. She thought Santana's friends could all be trusted, because anyone connected to Santana had to be just as safe as being with her right? Wrong.  
****A couple of people there were dangerous, and there were a few incidents where they tried to hurt her, and luckily Kurt was there to save her every time.  
****After that when he said things like "See those people over there, you need to avoid them" she listened to him and stayed far away. He could see signs of danger that she couldn't (and still can't) see very well. I know that if not for him, something bad could have easily have happened to Brittany.**

**To the guest who asked "Why do you use Brittany and Santana as aliases for the two main characters in this story"  
****I guess the answer is that having it be part of 'Brittana' gave me a platform to share this with other people, to an audience I already felt comfortable with, because I thought that people who like Brittana, might also like similar people like her and me. I didn't really know what I was doing when I started, and I had never written anything before, unless you count some somewhat creative diary entries. Doing it this way was just an idea that I ran with, and I feel like it was more or less a successful experiment. I really did try to align the characters as much as I could and keep then 'in character,' but then again I could understand how it might be kind of off, as I never actually compromised my story at any point for characterization. Maybe under different circumstances I would have written this as its own novel, but without any writing experience, and without "Santana's" permission (which makes the Brittana disguise great) I did it like this, and hoped for the best.**

**And thank you to the guest that told me I'm doing ok with my characterizations :) I do try really hard with that, so really, thank you!**

**I think I answered most of the questions but I've now run out of time and space for any more so I'll just say a general thank you! :)**

**I was really happy to see the interest in Danny, Lorraine and Kat. :) This chapter is for Danny and it covers the most important moment in our friendship. This chapter may not appeal to _everyone_, but i wrote it as a response to questions i receive all the time so i think it still fits. The next chapter will be back to focusing on Santana. ****Just to note: 'Astra' is Danny's imaginary friend.**

**No warnings needed this time.**

* * *

**Chapter 24 - Child Within My Heart**

**Brittany S. Pierce, present **

"When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up."  
― C.S. Lewis

* * *

**Brittany S. Pierce Age, 20 – 21. **

"How old are you?" Danny asked curiously, staring anywhere but at Brittany's face.

"I'm twenty years old, Danny, I told you that," Brittany said patiently.

He shook his head. "No, how old are you in your head? On the inside?"

Brittany wrinkled up her nose. "I'm not sure. I think some parts of me are older than others. Maybe my brain has declared mutiny and has decided to make all the different pieces of my personality grow at different rates. I mean, one minute I'm coloring in things with crayons and the next I'm presenting a speech about the validity of a psychological experiment in class."

"Well, it doesn't matter. Nothing matters so long as you aren't hurting anybody, and as long as your intentions are good," he said, his ever-present mantra.  
"I'm twenty in on the outside, but on the inside, I'm only ten," he told her.

Brittany's face grew serious. "I really try to be twenty. My girlfriend's age on the inside _and_ the outside is twenty. I've always tried to keep up with her."

"Yeah, so how come you're –" he broke off. "Well, I asked Astra the other day why you seem older than me, and how that's even possible when we left our planet at the same time. I mean I know that twenty years ago we came to earth, and we began in our bodies here. But, somehow you're still older than me," he stressed.

_That's kind of like asking me how I'm more 'high-functioning' than you_, Brittany realized, using Lorraine's term for it, and spending a few moments debating the question.  
_I think you were just born with a lot more of this disorder in you than I was,_ she told him in her head. _You started a few pages back from where I did, and you've had it harder than me._ _It's so easy to see myself in you, because when I notice the similarities between us, on you they look more extreme. It's like looking into one of those fun house mirrors that exaggerates everything._

She stared at him, watching him twist his hands together in front of his body. It was only a little thing, but somehow it was hard for her to watch.

_Sometimes it's hard to even look at you because I know that while the mirror image is distorted, we're still a reflection of each other, _she thought_.  
It's not your fault that I feel like sometimes I don't want to be around you, it's just that I don't always want anything to do with that part of me that you represent. Other times, I'm just drawn to you like you have a missing piece of me that I have to get back._

"Maybe my soul is just older than yours," Brittany offered finally, speaking out loud, and breaking out of her chain of thoughts.

Nodding, he accepted this. "Astra is also an older soul," he told her.

Brittany immediately wanted to change the subject to prevent another hour-long Astra-rant. She knew that deep down he didn't really believe Astra was real, but she guessed that he had a lot of good reasons to pretend that he did. Maybe he needed 'her.'

_If not for Santana, I might be still be relying on imaginary friends too_, mused Brittany, knowing it was true.

Danny smiled at her, trying not to scratch at a wound on his arm that was slowly beginning to scab over. Much of his skin's surface was covered with some kind of scratch or bruising, and Brittany had been trying to ignore them, knowing he hated to talk about it when he got hurt.  
_But he's hurt worse than usual this time_, Brittany thought worriedly.

She made it another ten minutes before she couldn't keep silent any longer.

"What happened to your arms and legs? What are all the bruises from?" she asked, all in a rush. Some of the ones on his arm kind of looked like handprints and finger marks. Now that she was seeing the shapes of hands, she couldn't get the image of people handling him roughly out of her mind.

"Some are from bullies, some are from the cops," he said shortly.

Brittany was alarmed. "The cops? What did you do?"

"Nothing." He fixed her with a sullen glare.

"Okay, let me say it differently, what were you doing right before the cops grabbed you."

"I was just hanging out with my new friend at the playground. Her name is Mollie and she's eight. Her mom told the cops that I was doing something wrong, but we were just playing tag together. They grabbed me and they tackled me down, right when I was chasing her behind a tree. I was gonna win, too, 'cause that tree wasn't gonna stop me catching her."  
He pouted as he remembered the moment. "Her mom was pointing at me like she was crazy, and I didn't know why. Haven't they heard of tag?"

Brittany's heart sank. "Danny you just can't do stuff like that," she told him.

"I wasn't doing anything wrong," he insisted. "She's my friend. We like a bunch of all the same things. On the inside we're pretty close in age!"

"I know that. But to those cops you were just a creeper who wanted to hurt her. Adults can't be on the same level as kids, no matter how young they are on the inside. There's a barrier between us and them because we're considered responsible, and they aren't. You have to know Mollie's family first, and you have to ask before you play with her. That's the rules."

"I would never hurt Mollie," he said, starting to rock on his chair. "I had nothing but good intentions. It took forever for the cops to realize that too, and to let me go. Why couldn't they just see it?"

He twisted his hands faster and started blinking rapidly.

"I know, I know," Brittany said realizing that she had gone too far and needed to try and calm him down.  
She made her voice gentle. "I get where you're coming from. I get along better with kids than with a lot of people my age too. It sucks when people our age outgrow us right? I get it, but Mollie's mom and all the parents at the playground aren't right there in your head. They don't know that you had only good intentions, they only saw how it looked to them."

He gave her a blank look.

Brittany nodded at him understandingly. "Yeah, trust me, it took me forever to figure out how to think from someone else's perspective, but you just have to learn to do it. You've got a good imagination, so pretend you're Mollie's mom, looking back at you. Imagine her purse in your hand, the feel of the beads on her arm, and the smell of her perfume. But, most of all imagine her protective instincts towards her daughter. Be her, looking at you. What do you see?"  
Brittany held her breath in anticipation, waiting for him to answer.

He squinted for a moment, screwing up his face. "I see Danny B. Watson, son of Jamie J. Watson, a very nice boy who thinks Winx Club is cool like Mollie does. I see a boy who wants to be Mollie's very best friend and go to her house and have a sleepover with her and play with Bruno, her dog."

Brittany sighed, having run out of ways to try and explain it. "You have to talk to her mom about that first," she told him. "Get to know her mom, and um… don't mention any sleepovers, okay?"

"I've never had a sleepover," he grumbled.

"I can show you what one is like," Brittany offered.

He brightened instantly, flapping his arms, and then wincing when he hit one of his bruises on the back of his chair.

Brittany winced along with him, unable to look away. "I'm sorry the police were so rough with you," she sympathized.

"They weren't so bad, these are mostly from some guys who live a couple of blocks from me," he muttered. "They see me walking home sometimes, and then they just jump me. I like to pretend that I'm in a spaceship drifting through space, so when the hits come they can't really hurt me."  
He pulled up his shirt and Brittany gasped when she saw the worst of the damage. "They hate me, but I just feel sorry for them," he told her.

"You… do?" Brittany asked, incredulously, having immediately decided that she strongly disliked this gang of bullies, and that was a first because she liked everyone. _Well, except maybe Simon Cowell and Freddy Krueger_, she amended.

"Yeah. I feel sorry for them because I'm a nice guy, and they're missing out on getting to be my friend. And, I feel sorry for them because they're angry and violent, and that's sad. Sometimes I go out of my way and run into them deliberately because I know that sooner or later they're gonna get my message."

"What's your message," Brittany asked. She kind of knew what he would say, but she wanted to hear it again.

"To spread kindness," he told her, bouncing up and down slightly. "That's what my spirit guide, Astra, guides me to do. She helps me to show other people how to be kinder, and she helps me encourage innocence and tolerance, and to destroy all the cruelty of this planet."

"Well, you're a better person than me, Danny. You're a good guy," Brittany told him, humbled by the caring view he was able to take on a group of thugs that had recently pounded their fists into his chest_. I'd be imagining dropping pianos on their heads,_ she thought darkly. _Or worse_.

"I know I'm a good guy," he said proudly.

"And, I wish I had your self esteem, You don't care that you're different. You know it, but you just accept it, and even take pride in it. I've never been able to do that. What's your secret?"

He shrugged. "I just believe in myself. That's how I know I'm gonna teach those bullies how to be kind if I just try hard enough. Until the universe evolves by itself, I have to cure all the mean people."

Brittany's head fell into her hands, and a million thoughts raced through her mind. _You believe in yourself to the point where it's gonna get you hurt_, she worried. _You're a unicorn, but the kind that's too pure to survive in a world full of regular people. I admire you, but you frustrate me at the same time. I want to hate you like I sometimes hate myself, but I can't. I'm so confused._

* * *

**From Brittany**

**To Santana**

**Subject: Childhood wishes **

So _who_ is visiting _who_ next time? Cause I already can't wait. And in case it's my turn to have you here I totally bought an enormous fountain with dolphins in it for my bathroom to compete with your fishy shower curtain.

I feel like we're on a reality show called bathroom wars or something. :p

I've been hanging out with Danny a lot lately. He reminds me of me when I was younger, you know, back when my head was kind of on another planet. :p

I think you'd like him. You liked me back then anyway, in spite of how I used to kind of be an alien.

He said this thing the other day about how he wants people to be more like crayons, cause they're all different colors and they can be different sizes, some even with funny names, but yet they all manage to live in the same box.

It's funny, I thought I said that myself once.

He's got me remembering about a lot of things from the past, so I started to think about childhood wishes.

These were most of yours right? Did I miss any?

1. Meet Ricky Martin

2. Become Bugs Bunny

3. Make it all the way to the tree when jumping off the swingset in the park.

4. Become a millionaire on our favorite virtual pet site.

5. Own the entire series of Sweet Valley High books.

6. Climb onto the roof of our principal's office.

7. Go to Disneyland and get Captain Hook's autograph.

8. Beat up 99 boys, and one really mean girl.

…You know I'd write a list of my own, but I think my only real wish was to be more like you.

I love you,

Brittany

* * *

Santana opened the email and started chuckling to herself. _She's pretty much dead on, she thought_, reading the list.  
"Ricky Martin, you were supposed to be my slave, and backup singer and dancer," she said with a grin, picturing her old room full of Ricky posters. "And I ate carrots for months trying to become more like Bugs Bunny."

She skimmed the rest of the list then hovered over the reply button, pausing. "You only missed one, Britt," she said softly to the screen.

"I wanted to grow up and marry you."

* * *

"I'm gonna walk you home today, Danny," Brittany offered when everyone else had packed up and left Lorraine's weekly session.

_I'm glad we never try to make up stupid excuses about why we're still here talking to each other after the rest of the group has left,_ Brittany thought. _Making up excuses is such a waste of time. I'd rather just always say that I like talking to someone, and then order them to stand there some more so we can talk longer._

She grinned at that thought, and then turned her attention back to the issue at hand, which was all about getting Danny home safely without him losing an eye or a tooth.

Danny had come to group today wearing a brightly colored woman's pink shirt, stretched a little too tight to fit him. The front had a female superhero, and the back had a rainbow. Brittany liked the shirt, and his guts for wearing it, but she doubted that he would get home in one piece. During their chats he had taken the time to list just how many people that had in the past managed to put their fists in his face when he did anything a little bit different.

She contemplated out loud what might happen if they ran into the bullies together. "The mean boys won't bother me because they like my boobs," she told him.  
"Most boy bullies don't bully girls because they have boobs. But, other girls will bully you more if you have more boobs than them. Or sometimes, girls bully girls and it's not even about boobs at all. It's so confusing."

Brittany almost missed slushie facials. _At least they never knocked out anybody's teeth_, she thought.

Leaving campus, they walked side by side for a few blocks, occasionally stopping to point out the wildlife and pick flowers.

It wasn't long before Brittany heard footsteps behind them.

Somebody, or more likely a group of people were walking a little too close to them for her comfort. She tensed, practically feeling their hot angry breath on her neck. She turned her head ever so slightly to see them, and within seconds an impression was made. These guys were big, with a dark shadow of inner rage that she guessed followed them wherever they went. Their darkness frightened her.

She shivered.

"Hey Hot Stuff, what are you doing with this loser?"

Brittany ignored them, and instead turned back to the boy beside her. "Is that them?" she asked.

"Yeah," Danny said. "Last time I saw them I was wearing a dress. It was cuter than pants so I wore it."

He walked up to them.

"Danny, get back here," Brittany hissed, but he ignored her and approached them with shaky steps.

"Nice shirt," they jeered. "Are you gay? Where's your little dress?"

"There's nothing wrong with being gay," he told them. "I'm not gay, but I hate intolerance of any kind. Being gay is harmless. People should be free to like who they like."

Brittany shot him a little smile. The boy was brave.

One of the thugs got closer, getting in his face, and clenching his fists.

_And maybe a little stupid,_ Brittany thought, breathing hard wondering if they could fight them together if they had to. _Danny is so small, well, he is for a guy, anyway_. She wondered if he knew how to defend himself.  
_I've watched Santana fight lots of times_, she reminded herself. _I can just do that._

Danny stopped and stiffened as if he was waiting for the blows to come, preparing himself to take each hit as it came. He didn't look like he was going to fight back at all.

_Yeah, I should have known that he wouldn't be into violence_, Brittany realized. She clenched and unclenched her fists and exhaled in frustration.  
_I don't think I could hit anyone either,_ she admitted to herself, stepping between them instead.

"If he's a loser, then I'm a loser too," she said truthfully, pushing the taller and probably the most brainless spiky-haired thug away.

"Step aside, Babe," the shorter one said, clearly trying to be a gentleman and failing spectacularly. "We'll take care of this one for you. He's bothering you, isn't he? Little prick."

Brittany felt like she was in that old movie _My Fair Lady_. She felt like the street girl, Eliza, after that old rich guy had given her lessons on blending in. When Eliza went back onto the street after learning how to be a lady, she found that because people treated her differently, she didn't fit in there anymore. These thugs couldn't see she was different, because right now she blended in, and she didn't stand out as much as Danny did. It was almost unsettling to her.

"No, I'm with him," she told them over the top of Danny's rant to the gang about love and tolerance, seeing he was completely unaware that he was already a second away from getting himself pounded. "And, he's straight. I'm the bi-corn".

She paused. "Oh, and we're from the same planet," she said as an afterthought, not even caring about what their reaction would be. She took hold of Danny's shirt, and pulled him away quickly, breaking into a run.

The brainless thugs began a halfhearted chase. She wasn't sure if they were confused by her zig-zagging escape path and didn't know where to go, or if maybe they didn't want to catch them anyway because they weren't about to hit a girl.

_Who knows_, she thought panting, climbing a fence and gesturing for Danny to follow. She wanted as much distance between them and those guys as possible.

After a few blocks she figured they had lost them, and she dragged Danny over and sat at the curb. She needed to think, and she figured that by the way he was shaking, he really needed to calm down and rest.

"Danny," she moaned finally, "I can't be here all the time. Those guys are big and stupid, and they're gonna hurt you. You've got to stop provoking them."

"Provoking them?" Instantly, he was enraged, and started shaking harder. "I did nothing wrong! All I did was stand up for myself and for what I believe in. I wasn't hurting anybody. They were! They were the ones who did wrong! I wish no harm to anybody, not even to them! Tell me, what did I do that was so wrong?"

Brittany tried to stay calm and not lose it with him. "I know. I know and I'm sorry. Provoking might have been the wrong word."

"I'm starting to think we have a lot of different opinions, Brittany. You don't seem to agree with me on a lot of things. Like, how I think that more people should be in relationships with more than one person, because spreading more love is better. Everyone can be fair and just love each other equally and fairly, and then there would be no problems. Do you really think that three or maybe even four people can't all love each other in harmony?"

"We're getting off track now Danny, but I think it's possible, but maybe it's not a realistic situation for many people."  
Brittany struggled to keep her voice steady and in control. He was striking a nerve.  
She tried again. "Relationships are more complex than you think, and society is set up in a certain way for a reason. I am very aware than you can love more than one person at a time, but most people are in twos because adding more people gets complicated, and the majority-"

"There you go, talking about the majority again. I'm sick of the majority. I'm against being like the majority because their rules get me hurt."  
He held up his broken arm and waved his other arm with all its angry looking bruises in her face. "All the _majority_ of people seem to have is ill intent towards me. We need to go against them and be different. I really thought that you were different!"

"I am!" Brittany roared, finally losing it, her cheeks coloring as she lost her control. She took a step forward and he immediately took a step back. "I am different! And so are you! And that's just it, the two of us together do _not _make up the majority. We live in a world where people will find us strange, or weird, and they will either get past it and maybe even like us for it, or hate us for being what we are. You tell me all the time that 'this is not our world' and well, you're kind of right! We _have_ to be prepared for people reacting badly to us, and be ready to protect ourselves. That's just the way it has to be."

He looked at her, his expression blank and unreadable.

Brittany tried to calm down. "You're thinking that the _majority_ of people are unkind and cruel like those bullies, but that's not true, it's just that sometimes the cruelest people can be the loudest, and we have to be ready for that. It's only because the bad kinds of people have been the main kinds to approach you all the time, that you think that everyone in the world is like them."

"We need to convert them all," Danny told her. "We need to make them accept us. We need to stop them being cruel."

"No, those are the people we need to avoid. They aren't everyone, but there are still too many of them. You're a guy who likes dresses and pink shirts with hearts and rainbows, and I'm a girl crazy enough to think that Filipino is a color, and that blondes are born with magical powers, like doing the splits or turning Swedish. We are both easy targets to attract the wrong kind of attention, and we can't just ignore that, we have to protect ourselves," she repeated. "Your safety comes before your crusade to 'cure people of evil.'"

"You did put your head to the ground the other day to check if a stampede was coming," Danny commented. "Even I thought that was weird."

"Well, you just never know," Brittany said with a little smile. "I got worried. And hey, you're obsessed with touching the loose wobbly skin on people's chins. That's weird, and I swear that I'm a huge disappointment to you for not having any wibbly-wobbly going on there myself."

"Yeah, ok, you got me there," Danny agreed. "I am weird for doing that. But still, some things that make me different are innocent and positive. Things like listening to Astra's guidance, liking Winx Club, and wearing pink and dresses, those are all cute or nice things to do that should make other people happy. Maybe if we just show the mean people a little kindness-"

"Danny, I see your point, and I really admire you for it, but being kind to other people doesn't fix everything. Some people have so much hate inside them that you will die trying to get through to them. Those people that were about to pound your face in today, they won't change, at least not this way."

"Yeah they will," he insisted.

"I'm sorry, but they won't! They might never change," Brittany said, raising her voice angrily. "They are not going to appreciate your attempts at hugging them, or your rants about magical fairies, so save it for someone who actually deserves it, or you're just gonna get your other arm broken! Lets face it, with the looks of those guys you might even end up dead!"

"Then that's the risk I'll take," he said decidedly. "I'm gonna bring about change one way or the other. If they break my other arm, then so be it. If I die, then so be it."  
His tone was dramatic, and Brittany could see that right now he was in all his prince 'star voyager' glory, shooting through space without a net.  
"It's my body, and if I want to sacrifice it, then that's my choice."

"You know, once upon a time I used to feel like that too," Brittany told him, deflating, her rage falling away.

"You were willing to die for the greater good of mankind?" he asked.

She blinked at him. "No, but I used to not be able to see how me being hurt affected others."

"What does that have to do with anything," he said confused.

"Well, when people hurt me, no matter what it was, whether it was a slushie facial, or being pushed over, or having mean words said behind my back or to to my face, I used to think that it shouldn't matter because I could handle it. I thought it was just my body that they were abusing, and it was my feelings they were hurting, so I thought that made it only _my_ problem."

"Yeah, it's _our_ business," Danny said, "and just like you, I can handle it."

"No, it wasn't just _my_ business or _my_ feelings or even just _my_ body that they were hurting, because I'd look over at her, and her heart would be breaking. She'd give me this look like she was guilty for not being able to stop it, and there was a lot in her face that I couldn't read, but I just remember her looking _so_, so, sad."

"Santana?" Danny asked. He knew all about her by now.

"Yeah," Brittany said softly. "When people care about you, it's no longer just about you, you know? Maybe you can take the hits, but they can't stand to see someone they love get hurt. Sometimes, when someone really loves us, what they feel inside for us when they see us getting hurt, is worse than even the pain that we're feeling ourselves."  
She paused, clicking her tongue and clearing her throat.  
"That's why I started pretending to be normal, and why I agreed to join the Cheerios and put up with Quinn and Puck and all the people that hated me for most of high school. I did it because getting in on that crowd helped her protect me, and more than anything she needed to at least feel like we were winning. She had other reasons to want us to sit up with the popular kids, but maybe the biggest one was always to keep me safe."

Danny's eyes darted all over the place like he wasn't sure what to think of all this information. "I have a right to be myself! I have an obligation to myself to be true to who I am!" he finally spluttered out.

"You also have an obligation to yourself to give yourself new opportunities and open up all the roads in life that you can open," Brittany countered.  
"For me, 'pretending to be normal' isn't just about staying safe anymore, it's now become about surviving classes in college. A lot of my grades depend on teamwork, and I've been working with not exactly cruel, but still difficult people. And, trust me, they don't want to hear about my cat or share my candy. I can't be myself all the time, or we wouldn't be able to get our presentations done. And then we'd all fail those classes, and not failing classes is very important."

"Well, I don't go to college here anymore. It was too hard," he told her. "I just still see Lorraine."

Brittany shrugged. "Well, maybe one day if you wanted to you could try again, and you could pick up where you left off."

"I'm a star voyager. I'm here to spread my message and I can't do that while pretending to be normal. Danny B. Watson is a star voyager."

Brittany lowered her shoulders. "Maybe Danny B Watson is a star voyager, but he owes it to himself to learn to find out what other people that he can _also_ be. You never know, maybe pretending to be normal might actually help you to make the right connections to spread your message better, or it might land you your first job, or it could help you get more independent so you can travel to fun places like to the Space Centre alone, even if no-one wants to go with you."

He cocked his head on one side like he was listening, and encouraged, Brittany continued.

"Different 'faces' take us different places, Danny," Brittany told him. "You can't force people to like you, or listen to you, but you can learn to present yourself in a way that will help people understand you better. People are having bad reactions to you because you keep walking up to just anyone, and you announce loudly that they should wear more pink, and honestly you sound a little rude yourself when you tell them over and over that they need to say nicer things."

"I'm just trying to help. I just want the world to be nicer."

"Yeah, I know, but not everyone is as cute as you, and that is their right to be that way. Maybe if you got to know people first instead of just demanding they be nice, then you could help them."

"Do you pretend to be normal?" he asked slowly. "Is that kind of why your soul seems older than mine?"

"It's not really 'older' it's just that I've learned to act different. I know you want to talk about Astra all the time, just like I wish I could talk about cats all day, but turns out that if you do that, you miss out on hearing great stories from other people. When I was at school I had to force myself to always sit _at_ my desk instead of under it, even when I really wanted some space, but I'm glad I did because that made me learn better. When I realized that people weren't listening to what I was saying because my voice was too quiet and robot-like, I stood in front of the mirror for hours at a time reading old Dr Seuss books and trying to get my voice to go up and down the regular way, and guess what? People listen to me more now. You've just gotta keep trying."

"I like _Oh, the places you'll go_, by Dr Seuss," Danny said. "It's my favorite."

"Focus Danny," Brittany begged. "The main part of what I'm saying is that you're wasting your time seeking out cruel people and getting beat up. There are heaps of more positive things you could be doing. Right now, you're only hurting yourself and the people that love you."

"But, I don't have a Santana who gets upset when I'm hurt," Danny pointed out.

"You have your mom," Brittany said, remembering the sweet and kind older woman that tried her best to give him a ride to and from the clinic when she wasn't working her two jobs. She knew that Mrs Watson supported everything Danny did, no matter how weird it seemed, and she also knew that she was the reason he had such good self esteem.  
"How do you think your mom would feel if she got a call from the hospital to say you were in the emergency room, or worse? Think of it from your mom's point of view."

"Ohhh," Danny breathed out slowly and started clicking his tongue back and forth while he thought.

Brittany's eyes widened. _I think he actually got it that time_. She saw the understanding flash up to his eyes, then watched his face change into an expression of defiance like it always did. He was a stubborn guy.

"I'm still right though. I've still got a right to be myself," he repeated. "I shouldn't have to back down to anyone. If I want to wear pink dresses and paint my nails, then I should be able to do that without it hurting anybody."

"I know, Danny, I know, but this is about figuring out the time and place. You can wear whatever you like around me, and around your family, and your friends, and in any place where you're safe from getting hurt. But right now you're seeking out all the wrong people. Just pick your battles better, ok? You aren't going to convert those bullies into all accepting happy meadow frolicking unicorns no matter what you do."

Brittany paused. "With people like that you have to learn to be like a lizard. Kind of like one of those chameleon things. You don't have to change who you are, you just have to learn to fool the people who don't get you to stay safe."

"Like the Pokemon, Ditto?"

"Um, probably," Brittany agreed, having no idea what he was talking about.

"It's not fair," Danny grumbled. "Why is everyone so mean?"

"It's not that bad," Brittany assured him, "and I swear to you, not everyone is mean. There are a lot of good people out there, and I call them unicorns. Unicorns are open-minded. They would like this shirt."  
She pointed at him, tracing the rainbow design in the air. "Maybe someday we'll both be somewhere where unicorns aren't so rare, but for now we're here," she said softly.

They exchanged a stressed glanced, and then they both twisted their hands at the same time. Seeing the shared body language, they laughed, feeling the tension between them ease.

"You're a unicorn," Danny told her shyly.

"No, I'm not," Brittany sighed, "because I'm missing the part where I'm supposed to like myself. I think the only person in the world that I've never just accepted is _me_. To be a unicorn you need _independence, confidence, and total acceptance of your own individuality__._ I've had that smart sounding definition written in my diary since before Santana and I even kissed."

Danny's face twisted into a frown, and for a moment he held his hand in the air like he wished he could reach out to her.

"But you know, Danny I really like you," Brittany said slowly.

He gave her a blank look.

Brittany realized she'd have to explain it. There was a time where she hadn't known what to think of having those words said to her too. She gave him reasons, ticking them off on her fingers. "I like your belief in people, and I like how you want to make the world a better place. I like that you have strong opinions, and that you're fair, and that you have a great sense of right and wrong."

Having run out of fingers she started on her other hand. "And, I like that you know everything about space. I like that you're forgiving and kind and innocent."  
_And, in a way I kind of miss the days when I was more in touch with the side of me that is like him,_ Brittany thought.

"Thanks, Britt. But, don't forget that for better or for worse, we're both from the same planet."

"So we are. You're right. The good and the bad parts," Brittany repeated slowly. "We're both from the same planet."

Her voice trailed off and her eyes misted over.

"I know it seems bad sometimes," he agreed. "But don't forget that there are good parts of being a star voyager. All those nice things you just told me about me, you don't realize it, but you are those things too. You always talk like the only good thing about you is the parts of you that have made similar to Santana over the years. What about the rest?"

Brittany looked at him properly, then looked at their reflection in the glass panel door.

"You know, I'm not supposed to like you," she told him honestly. "If you're kind of like my reflection, then why do I like you so much? I've never met anyone like me before, and I thought if I ever did I'd kind of hate them."

"Maybe that's been the problem," he agreed. "You needed to recognize yourself in another person to truly see yourself properly."

"I've been so afraid of seeing myself properly," Brittany admitted. "I used to even squint my eyes before I looked into any mirror because I thought that if I could do that then I wouldn't see the half of me that I don't like."

"Well, you're looking at that half of you now," Danny interrupted her, facing her square on. "What do you think?"

Brittany's eyes dropped, then slowly wandered upwards as he tilted her chin up. "I think you have a really important place in the world Danny," she told him. "I look at you, and I think the world needs you."

Patiently he watched her collect her thoughts. He imagined her fighting through cobwebs and dusting off new ideas from a previously unexplored side of her mind. Finally she spoke.  
"Danny, if you have a place in the world, then I must have one too, right? I've never really been sure if that were true."

"You've never been sure?" Danny asked, frowning.

"When I was with Santana I felt like I did, but on my own I wasn't sure," she told him. "I didn't know who 'Brittany' was without her, and for a long time I didn't even want to know, because I was afraid of what I might find."  
Brittany laughed a short laugh. "I guess I thought I was sharing Santana's place."

"You have your own," he confirmed gently. "You're supposed to be here, as exactly the person that you are."

"I thought that I was kind of _wrong_," Brittany told him, voicing her fear out loud for what felt like the first time. "But, if I like you as much as I do, then I can't very well hate myself then anymore can I?"

Brittany gave another short laugh which turned into a sob as tears began to fall down her cheeks.

He reached out and took her hand, and she squeezed it back wanting comfort, feeling things that she knew he could understand.

"That's the first time I've ever done that," he admitted, lifting their joined hands and gesturing to them.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he confirmed proudly.

"Oh, the places you'll go," Brittany quoted smiling a watery smile back at him when his face lit up in a megawatt grin.

Overcome with a sudden sense of wanting to make changes in her life and to be strong, Brittany drew in a breath as she realized what had always been missing from both her and Santana's lives.

It simply hadn't been enough to want to be better people for each other, to have carried each other for over a decade through life, depending on the other to feel self worth.

She could see now, that there was power in wanting to do things for herself because _she_ thought she was worth something, not just because another person saw her that way.

"Oh the places we'll go," she amended softly, a minute later, seeing herself in the glass again as if for the first time.

* * *

**From Brittany**

**To Santana **

**Subject: Mission accomplished**

Hey Santana,

I've been working hard on achieving all the items on your list so all your childhood wishes can come true! Firstly, I found our old accounts on that virtual pet site and I made you a millionaire. Getting points now is so much easier than when we were kids.

And, you should be receiving a package soon containing exactly 50 Sweet Valley High books 'cause that's a start right?

I don't know why Ricky isn't responding to my tweets, but I'm pretty sure he'll come to his senses soon, and I got you a Bugs Bunny hat.

I love you more than ever, and I have so much to tell you.

Britt

* * *

"What are all these tests for again, Miss Lorraine?"

"For the last time, it's just _Lorraine_, Brittany. And they vary, but many of those tests that I just gave you were to test your executive functioning."

Brittany nodded enthusiastically. "Right! That's a loaded term for all the mental processing brain stuff that I'm supposed to suck at right? I read about it in my books on autism."

"You've really been reading those?" Lorraine asked, smiling at her.

"Yeah. I really have. Cover to cover."

"Good girl," Lorraine said. "I'm glad you're not running from this anymore."

"I'm not," Brittany assured her. "I think I'm tired of running, because if people don't face what they're running from they never get anywhere. They never move past it to get to the next stage. And, I think I want to see what's next."  
She paused.  
"So did I label any of my faces right this time? Was that still part of the executive producer tests? Because, you hold up pictures of faces and ask me what the expressions are every week."

"You've now mastered the simple expressions. The complex ones need work. See these faces," Lorraine held up a few cards, "these emotions are called shame and guilt, and this one is called pride and this one is called admiration."  
She flipped through them again, frowning as if she couldn't find what she wanted. "I'll get you a few more examples of the same expressions because I can tell you're still having trouble."

"Thank you," Brittany said gratefully.

"You're welcome. Oh, hang on, in the simple emotions section you have labelled a fearful face as an angry face again. I just missed it."

Brittany swore under her breath. "I just can't tell the difference! I swear those paper people _all_ have rage."

"That's okay. You've improved a lot since the first time we did this. Now, moving on. Your multitasking ability and your switching between tasks proficiency is- "

"Disastrous!" Brittany interrupted.

"Well, you said it," Lorraine laughed. "'Shifting gears' or trying to do two things at once is not for you. Think of your mind like it has cashiers ringing up items at a checkout. You can only put one thing through at a time. But, there are things we can do to get around that and make the most of what you've got. Just don't ever get a summer job trying to work in fast food ok? Taking multiple orders at once would pretty much _explode_ your brain," she said using one of Brittany's common phrases.

Brittany sighed.

"But that memory of yours is great! You need to develop that and use it as a strength," Lorraine said, trying to cheer her up.  
"You didn't even have to look back at your notes from our last class, yet I've already heard you reciting parts of my speeches word for word back to your classmates."  
_And, in my accent,_ Lorraine thought to herself with amusement.

"I liked what you said," Brittany said simply. "I can always remember things that I like. But when I tried memorizing the instructions to the washing machine it just didn't happen. I couldn't even remember what the buttons were for. I don't like washing machines."

"Stick with what you like then," Lorraine advised. "If something can catch your focus, then you will succeed at it."

"Can I get a job using my knowledge of cats and dinosaurs?"

"Well, yes," Lorraine agreed. "It's remotely possible, but such jobs are hard to find. What about psychology, do you like it?"

Brittany thought for a moment then nodded her head. "Yeah I do. People have always been the most interesting, but the most confusing things in the world to me. I like studying them and answering all my own questions. Plus, I want to help kids who went through the same things as me."

"Good, good," Lorraine said. "You're in the right place then. And lastly, tell me what I've told you to do if someone tells you something that doesn't make sense?"

"Write it down, and then turn the words into a diagram or a picture," Brittany recited, nodding her head.  
"Because I think in pictures," she added.

"Yes, you're one of the ones that really does think that way," Lorraine agreed sitting back down at her desk while Brittany went around cleaning up the room, setting the chairs up for her next class, humming over the sound of scraping metal when it made contact with the floor.

"You know, you did very well, Brittany," Lorraine said, calling her over while shuffling some files on her table.

Brittany moved to stand next to her. She looked over her tests again.  
"Yeah I did okay," she agreed, but then she noticed that Lorraine wasn't looking at the tests, she almost seemed to be staring at nothing.

Lorraine put her hand on her shoulder. "Danny hasn't gone near any street gangs in weeks. It really looks like he's thinking through the consequences of his actions more. His mom called me yesterday to tell me how grateful she is that he hasn't lost any more teeth or broken any new bones. She feels like she doesn't have to worry about him as much, and it's a tremendous load off her shoulders. That was exactly what I wanted you to do, and I somehow knew that you could."

Brittany pictured the sweet older woman. "I'm glad Mrs Watson is feeling better."

"She hasn't been well in quite some time," Lorraine said sadly, "but with less stress in her life then perhaps that will change."

"Maybe I'll tell her that Danny helped me too," Brittany said nodding, "and that she can be real proud of him. He's the reason that I wanted to take the full range of tests today like you've been asking me to."

"Yeah?" Lorraine asked her looking up. "He helped you? Oh, can you file these for me as well."

Brittany took them from her and went over to the filing cabinet. "He made me realize that having autism isn't so bad. It kind of sucks a whole lot, but at the same time it makes us do some other pretty awesome things."

Hearing the word 'us' said so openly, the therapist paused mid-way through ticking a box on her paper. "I'm glad, Brittany. I really hoped that you would come to see that."

"I like Danny B. Watson and I kind of like Brittany S. Pierce now too," Brittany said. "That's progress, right?"

"Definitely," Lorraine agreed, her face splitting into a smile that showed all her teeth. "You're done here, now. Go and see the sunshine and reward yourself with a cupcake or something."

"I will… Lorraine!" Brittany called back almost skipping out the room.

"Oh, and Brittany?" Lorraine asked, smiling about the fact that she'd finally dropped the 'Mrs.'

Brittany skidded to a stop.

"You know how we were talking about you confronting this, and moving on to the next stage, of whatever that is for you?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I think you'll go far."

* * *

**3 Things **

**1. Danny and I kind of had the same problem; we both needed to meet another person on the spectrum, and to learn from them.  
****I love him a lot, and our friendship isn't always easy, but it is worth it. Right now he's just come out of 'hibernation.' Sometimes he shuts himself in and won't talk to anybody.**

**He has now moved to the internet to send out his message of spreading love and kindness.  
****Instead of hanging around local bullies, he now visits internet forums looking for anger and hate, and he tries to change the original poster's way of thinking.  
****Some of the main things he defends are homosexuality, autism, adults liking cartoons, and unusual hobbies. He hates bullying and will get on any targeted person's side just about, so long as the target has not done something harmful.**

**I can see that doing this is very, very important to him, so I try to support him on it, even though sometimes it looks like he is wasting his time and stressing himself out constantly battling internet 'trolls.'  
****I try to remember that even though the 'trolls' are probably not going to listen, it **_**is**_** the internet and there **_**will**_** still be other people reading his posts, and perhaps they will benefit more from his messages.  
****Besides, mean people on the internet can't beat him up and land him in the ER, so that is a definite positive!**

**2. He did help me make a giant leap towards liking myself. It's only on off-days that I don't now, and when that happens I'm much more aware of it and I'll usually talk about it.  
****He set the 'child within my heart' free because when I met him, I did to an extent try to stop forcing myself to be older… not that it was even working.  
****And to a different extent, he also kind of stopped forcing **_**himself**_** to stay younger, realizing that growing up didn't have to mean **_**all**_** loss of innocence.**

**3. Lorraine did tell me that I'd 'go far' and it was such a kind thing to say, and meant so much coming from her. **

**Oh, and I really did try to fulfill some of Santana's childhood wishes. Several of them were kind of easy to do!**

**The next chapter, will be a really hard one to write, and it may take me some time but i'll get there. **

**And, I wrote an essay to try and explain some more things that I've been getting asked in pm's, and at the same time it kind of summarizes the story so far. I'll put it here.**

* * *

**On Pretending to Be Normal – By Philosoraptor S. Pierce. **

I get a lot of questions asking how I can now express myself so well in writing, and pass myself off as not-so different from other people.  
If the answer (or my best attempt at an answer) to this interests you, then read on, if not then feel free to skip this section.

I guess I'll start by pointing out that I'm not the first autistic person to have discovered how to write about my experiences, nor am I the best at it.  
There is a British author named Luke Christopher Jackson who wrote a book called Freaks, Geeks and Asperger's Syndrome at the age of 13(!) and just from reading the preview I can tell he leaves me in the dust.

But all the same, my story and own personal growth is something to be proud of too.

I thought I would go through the chapters chronicling "Brittany's" milestones, laying it out for you as a recap of that character's road of finding acceptance, independence and understanding of the world.

_**Part 1:**_

_Age – 7-8 (Chapter 2 +3)_** - **Brittany began to get an understanding of very basic obvious emotions, for example, crying equals sad, smiling equals happy. Most people achieve this as young toddlers.  
She made friends with Santana, and learned to play with her instead of always being alone by herself.

_Age 9-10 (Chapter 4) _– Brittany began to be able to deal with affectionate touch, and was able to use affectionate touch to comfort Santana. Again, even toddlers can do this.

_Age 13 (Chapter 5)_ – Brittany gained independence by tearing up all her behavior charts, because they weren't working anyway.

_Age 14 (Chapter 7) _– She managed to get a basic understanding of sexual behaviors through examples of animals mating, and was able to understand the difference between physical sex and emotional sex.  
She was able to see a physical expression of pain on Santana's face.  
She developed an interest in people through reading hundreds of Sweet Valley High books.

_Age 15 (Chapter 8)_ – Brittany first had sexual feelings (towards Santana). She allowed Santana access to previously unexplored parts of her body.  
She found out what being gay meant.  
She began to try and communicate her feelings using 'other people's words' from movies and songs.

_Age 15 (Chapter 9)_ - Brittany was first able to communicate feelings for Santana using her own words.  
She spent the night with Santana in an intimate position.  
She was able to read a complicated emotion (self hatred) on Santana's face, and was able to understand that Santana was pretending to be happy with other people that hurt her, but was genuinely happy with Brittany.

**Part 2:**

_Age 16 (Chapter 10)_ – Brittany was first able to stay in control during a meltdown, and cry without losing herself to her emotions.  
She said 'I love you' to Santana (but was uncertain if she knew the true meaning).  
She tried to show a vulnerable emotion to a group of people in song (but failed).

_Age 16 (Chapter 11)_ - She began to try and connect with her own body.  
She had her first kiss with Santana.

_Age 16 (Chapter 13)_ – She was able to recognize that Santana needed her, and to respond better than she had before to be there for her.

_Age 16 (Chapter 14)_ - Brittany finally began to bond with someone other than Santana (Kurt, and also Rachel and Tina to an extent).  
She also stood up to Santana for the first time and told her not to bully Rachel.

_Age 16 (Chapter 15) - _Brittany tries to share her feelings about Santana to a group of people in song, but fails at picking a serious enough song to get her message across.  
She later acknowledges that seeing feelings is hard for her. After getting some advice she realizes that she will have to try twice as hard as other people all her life to make sure she can see how other people feel.

_Age 16 (Chapter 16)_ - She began to understand how important finding her own independence is, for both personal reasons, and for her relationship with Santana.  
She realizes that being completely dependent on someone is like being a pet, and she doesn't want that for her life.  
She also sets her sister 'free' and says that no matter what her mom says, Katie will not have to look after her (Brittany) for all their lives.

_Age 17 (Chapter 17)- _ Brittany starts to have sex for the first time with Santana, but Santana breaks down during, and they don't finish.  
Brittany is able to understand that Santana has been hurt by other people, and that she is struggling to see sex as a good thing and needs some good experiences, and she therefore tries to get them in situations that will give her some good experiences.  
Brittany then shows independence by taking Santana off an anti-depressant drug that was making her feel like a zombie.  
She goes against Santana's idea of making out with people in front of guys, because she thinks that this idea will only make more bad sexual experiences for her, and plus she feels their relationship should only be about two people.

Brittany finally decides that even though she doesn't understand the complicated feeling of 'love,' that doesn't mean she can't feel it.  
With relief, she gives into the feeling, and stops trying to analyze it.

**Part 3: **

_Age 17 (Chapter 18) _- Brittany tries to cope in her own way, when she is left alone in the house while her mom and sister are away (but fails miserably and ends up dehydrated).  
She acknowledges that her fantasy life is just that – fantasy, and that she knows she gets lost in her head sometimes, but wants to keep a grip on reality too.  
She tells her Granny about how much Santana does to make her happy, and that she wishes that Santana could allow herself to feel more emotions during their time together instead of holding them back.

_Age 17 (Chapter 19)_ - Brittany is able to care for Santana after Santana has a boob job. They both discuss 'running away from themselves' and for the first time, Brittany recognizes, and vaguely communicates the fact that she has a disability and how it makes her vulnerable.  
Brittany and Santana have sex, and when Santana says it doesn't mean anything, Brittany was able to see through her.

_Age 17 (Chapter 20)_ - Brittany realizes how much of her life revolves around Santana, and is helped to see that she has no personal goals of her own.  
She tries to think of a career she might be suited to, so she doesn't become a burden on anyone. She realizes that to achieve grades high enough to go to college, she needs to pull herself together and work harder, and stop obsessing about Santana.  
She studies obsessively; pulling her grades up, and was finally successful in singing a song to communicate her feelings for Santana in front of a group.  
And finally, she admits out loud that she has Asperger's Syndrome.

_Age 18 (Chapter 21)_ - When Santana asks Brittany to 'run away' with her to another state, Brittany is torn, but when she learns that it's intended to be a relationship for three (including Puck), she feels she deserves more than being Santana's 2nd, so she asserts her rights and says no, and says that she wants it only to be the two of them.  
Santana tells her in not so many words that she wants that too, and that she hopes that one day she will come back to her (Brittany) and they will be together.  
Brittany realizes that they both need to grow up in the meantime for that to happen.

_Age 18-19 (Chapter 22)_ - Brittany's hard work at school pays off and she is offered a place at a respected university.  
She struggles without Santana, and finds it hard to stand on her own feet.  
Eventually she breaks down, but then when she sees Santana is struggling just as much as she is with the separation too, she snaps out of it realizing that she needs to be the strong one this time and just keep going.  
She vows to try even harder.

_Age 20 (Chapter 23)-_ Brittany continues to try and get her degree, and after only just-passing a midterm, she is told that she needs to work the her communication and draw less pictures, and state her answers more clearly.  
She becomes involved with an autistic self help group as a volunteer helper, and as a result begins to read up on her syndrome.  
She meets a boy who represents the person she once was, and an older woman who represents the person she wants to be.  
She and Santana agree to confront the past and discuss how things came to be until they find the answers they are looking for.

And so on.

**If I could make a list of the top four things which helped me most, in no particular order I would choose: **

1. _Support_. No matter who you are, if you provide acceptance and understanding to someone with autism then you're already doing a great thing.  
I was lucky enough to have Santana, who motivated me and taught me so much of what I know. And, then I had other people who also came along on the way, like Kurt, Artie, Lorraine and Danny. My mom didn't always know how to handle me, but she did the best she could and that means a lot too.

2. _Persistence_. So much of what I managed to achieve in the end was just about trying the same things over and over until they worked. And example is touch, Santana and I just kept trying it often until I got used to it.  
It was the same with expressing myself, I just kept practicing it until my words started to make more sense to other people. Even as I write this story, I will write the same chapter (or parts of it) several times if it doesn't make sense, and feelings are not explained well. I probably make it look easy, but it isn't at all.

3. _Awareness_. Things changed for me when I learned more about my disorder and got in contact with other people who struggle with the same thing who could give me some advice. Knowledge is power.

4. _Self-acceptance_. I didn't have that until this chapter, but when I got it, it made a world of difference. When I was younger, sometimes having persistence was hard because I felt I wasn't worth it, or didn't deserve it. On the same note, it was harder for me to accept support, and because I refused to acknowledge my disorder I knew very little about it.

Accepting myself as the person that I am, gave me a fight I'd never had before.

In the past I only tried hard for Santana, to make _her_ happy.

Being a unicorn, is about wanting to do things all for yourself.

_Unicorn - a state of being, characterized by independence, confidence, and total acceptance of your own individuality. _

At the same time, I don't mean to say I'm cured, I'm just 'better than I was before.'  
Maybe these days in short bursts, I can pass for normal, but, to be honest, it's just 'pretending.'

I still say what I mean, but I now know how to present it in such a way so that other people can understand me better.

I also have learned ways to compensate for the slower parts of my brain, and ways to make the most of the faster parts.

But when I get tired or sad I revert back to my old ways.

I will end with a message from a unicorn called harumad, who knows me very well, and can tell you what it is like to know me personally:

* * *

We have just come off a bad night… the technical (medical or whatever ) term is a meltdown… she had little sleep… and I haven't had any… right now, as I'm writing this, she is in a bad place in her head… a place where she hates herself and I can do little to nothing about it… I don't know if today is kind of what she wanted me to talk about here… the worst of her alien side… the one that she tries to not show everyone else… not even me at the beginning… I feel kind of useless and I thought that at this moment I could at least write what she asked me to forever ago and I haven't had the guts to do…

When I first met her our communications were kind of like you read here… she was articulated, coherent, chipper (even when some sad thing came up)… we had a couple of big talks… but it wasn't until something hard stricken in her life that she came close to me… that weekend was one of the most emotionally exhausting of my life, I haven't cried so hard and so much in a long time all because it was hard to see and to think of her in a place so dark that it didn't let her light shine…

In that moment she let go of everything she does to try to sound "normal" to us… she let go of the control she had over herself and she let me saw what was inside of her… hurting so bad that it had stolen her physical strength, her smile and even her voice…

She was convinced I was going to leave her… because other people have left… over and over she asked me not to go but at the same time that she gave me every liberty to leave… she still does that… I know now that many of those recurrent thoughts come from the disorder… same with the ones about she not deserving stuff and people, and her hating herself from time to time… it still was difficult to fully understand what was happening… because I didn't know what to do, what to say, how to respond… but as hard as it was for me I can only imagine how terrifying was for her to trust someone new with all this, if I would have rejected her it would have hurt her deeper than any of us can even imagine…

In that moment I couldn't appreciate exactly how much trouble she goes to sound "normal" and I didn't even see her meltdown that time… I actually only got to be there after and during a period of grief…

It wasn't until the months after that I truly saw how much she works to write her story… how emotionally exhausting it actually is… how much effort she goes to address you, to answer what you ask her truthfully and meaningfully, all because she values what each and all of you think, and she wants to show how much it means to her that there are people listening and that are there for her…

I don't think she does it to sound normal or cured… it's not that she is hiding anything… she is just trying her best to meet what the world has told her to be the norm… the standard… and that is hard… in her day to day life it's exhausting and overwhelming… and it takes an unbelievable amount of strength that I don't think many people have on them…

I'm proud of her each and every day… but not because of how well she "pretends to be normal" but because of that strength, because on how she takes on the world and the people on it who make it very difficult for someone to be unique… and also because she had the courage to trust me enough to let me get to know her this way, and to trust me to write what I believe it's a description of her that falls short… I'm proud of her because she thinks is unfair for other autistic people that someone could believe she is "cured"…

The disorder accounts for many things that I have learn to see over the months… like how she draws parallels between many things in her life, like how she process feelings… she once told me I'm teaching her something… I honestly couldn't tell you if that's true or not… but I have actually learned a lot from her… and it is not how to treat autistic people… but how to show feelings, how to be there for someone, how to trust a person, how important friendship and love is…

I think she kind of believes that people love her despite her autism traits… but I don't think that… because when I see her I see a highly intelligent person, a caring human being, a brave girl and a courageous person who is willing to tackle her past to learn something, no matter how difficult it is… I don't know many "normal" people who would do that…

She is never going to be 'normal', she is never going to be ordinary… But why would you want to contain the ocean in a cup, the sky in a frame… Ordinary is so boring when you know that she was born for greatness, she was born to be extraordinary…  
At least that's how I see her…


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